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by AttackoftheDarkCurses



Series: Attack's Trope-y HEAs [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Epistolary, F/M, Forbidden Love Vibes, HEA, Librarian!Ben Solo, Mating Bites, Mutual Pining, No Pregnancy, Omega Rey (Star Wars), Oral Sex, Side Roux, Smut, Texting, anonymous texting, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 78,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21634540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AttackoftheDarkCurses/pseuds/AttackoftheDarkCurses
Summary: “Oh stop being all Alpha-y.” She flexes her foot, rolling her ankle as if to prove a point, and he doesn’t miss the wince that crosses her expression. “You aren’t my Alpha, and you definitely aren't my soulmate,” she mutters.He can’t help but let out a dry laugh. “Thank god for small mercies.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Attack's Trope-y HEAs [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567354
Comments: 1671
Kudos: 3519





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeeno2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeeno2/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is already written (thanks Nanowrimo!) and I'll be posting at least once a week while I use December to wrap up some other WIPs. This one is... ridiculous. Maybe. It's inspired by a [funny poll](https://twitter.com/jeenonamit/status/1173583841744830466?s=20) Jeeno put on twitter asking what the 14,000th Reylo fic would be. "ABO Professor Roommates" almost won and I volunteered to write it. Obviously I've also tossed in a bunch of other things, so this has been a hell of a fic to write. Try not to take it too seriously. Note: Neither Ben nor Rey are professors here, but this is a University setting. I adjusted the prompt. I'm also playing around with html for future chapters, so be patient with my formatting.

It’s where the heart is. Where you are known, and safe, and loved. There’s no place like it, where dreams and hopes reside. It’s other people—the people who love you and help you through life. It’s a soulmate.

And perhaps that’s all true, but Rey wouldn’t know. It’s a funny, fickle thing. A harder thing to find than many think, more so for someone who’s never had it. Often she wonders if she needs it at all, or she wonders if, after all this time, she would know it if she found it. If she finds it, will she be struck by a bolt or hit with some realization? Is it like falling in love? Will she feel butterflies? Will she someday enter a room and still, and say ‘Yes, this is it, I’ve found it’? Will she finally feel something other than lost?

Rey doesn’t know, but it’s one of the last things on her mind, because right now, something in her has ignited. Set aflame, and she’s been left to burn with the man whose arms she’s in.

Right now, she’s not just lost, she’s— 

His hot breath comes out in pants against her skin, and he presses bruising marks into her hips and thighs with his fingers.

She’s lost in _Ben_ , and in the way he thrusts up into her and plays her body like she’s an extension of him. She grips the headboard and gives him everything, everything she has, everything she _is_.

His mouth finds hers, kissing her like they’ll never get to kiss again, and she— 

There’s something building between them, overwhelming her and pulling her under, drowning her in him, in fire, in this heat, and in the tidal wave that is whatever _this_ is.

She shivers at the feeling of his swelling knot that catches in her, at the feeling of his arms around her, in the feeling of being surrounded by him. Ben’s head drops to rest on her shoulder, and he groans against her skin as she rolls her hips and nuzzles into his neck. That’s when it happens. She cries out, muffling the sound with her teeth in the flesh of his mating gland. Her teeth press in, breaking skin in a bite that’s far from an innocent or accidental nip. There's lightning under her skin and even that's nothing to the molten core that is Ben's body, melded with hers.

Silence—save for their breaths and pounding hearts—falls between them, and while stuck on his knot, Rey has time. Time to process the indelible mark she’s given _Ben,_ and not her soulmate. Time to think, which is the most dangerous thing she can do.

Her eyes well with tears as she gazes at the beautiful summer sun’s light, stretching across his alabaster chest. That’s when it hits her. It’s an overwhelming thing. Seconds of pure joy stretched out into epochs as time does funny things, because _this is it_. 

Her home. It’s Ben.

Pure joy, and then breathtaking pain.

How will she ever tell Kylo?

~

The library computer starts up with a low hum, prompting her for login credentials faster than her bulky laptop would. She types her university login, clicking open her email and the calendar that keeps her life from imploding. 

Despite all the windows and the air purification system that blasts out chilly air and keeps Alphas and Omegas from spreading their scents everywhere, it’s blissfully warm in the library. It’s a welcome refuge from the frigid winter that’s blasting and howling just outside.

Rey winces at how many emails are waiting, but this is what she gets for not checking it over break. Thirty-two out of her fifty-nine new emails are from travel sites urging her to book a vacation to somewhere warmer and kinder. Somewhere that doesn’t involve frigid wind burning through her layers. The thought is tempting, and Rey hovers over each of them, studying the countries the sites suggest she visit. It’s a routine of hers. She picks a country, plans a trip down to the hour, painstakingly plans the budget and… doesn’t go. 

As she scans the rest of her inbox, ignoring the twinge in her chest when she scrolls past the travel offers, there’s a set of emails from a few weeks ago that catch her eye and send her reeling. Her palms go clammy.

> **_SoulBond_** _Subject: Your SoulBond Results Are A..._ _Jan 1 2019 4:13 AM_
> 
> **_SoulBond_** _Subject: FW: New Message From Kylo…_ _Jan 1 2019 7:46 AM_

Oh god, it happened. 

She leans back in her seat, staring at the screen.

At a basic level, she’s known this day would come. Most people receive their results before they turn twenty-five, and that’s less than a year away. Plus, she received a gift through the SoulBond system yesterday, a clear sign she should have checked her email. Still, it never felt _real,_ that she’d receive this news.

Rey’s breath turns shaky as an IV of caffeine and paralyzing adrenaline rushes through her. There are two distinct feelings swirling in her, fighting for control. Fear _,_ pure and cold and terrible, and something a little lighter, but still miles from joy. It’s not the normal reaction, she guesses, but it’s hers. Full of trepidation, she hovers over the message.

She clicks it.

* * *

 **From:** SoulBond Account Forwarding Service

 **Sent:** Tuesday, January 1, 2019 7:46 AM

 **To:** Rey Johnson

 **Subject:** FW: New Message From Kylo Ren Available

> **From:** kyloren@soulbond.com
> 
> **Sent:** Tuesday, January 1, 2019 7:34 AM
> 
> **To:** kiraren@soulbond.com 
> 
> **Subject:** Hi
> 
> Kira,
> 
> Happy New Year.
> 
> I hope it’s warm wherever you live. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but if it’s warm wherever you are, I suggest we live there instead of here. If we ever live together. Soulmates don’t always, I guess? Either way, every winter here makes me want to move. Even for January it’s freezing. It was below zero this morning. That’s Fahrenheit. I don’t know if you use that or celsius.
> 
> I’m sorry. My first message to my soulmate and I’m talking about the weather. If you’re wondering, yes, I’m this awkward in real life. I’m also a master of self-depreciation.
> 
> Anyway, by the time you read this, I’ll have sent you a package. I plan to send it this morning, assuming the post office is open. The SoulBond delivery system looks questionable, so I hope you receive it, because my mother will kill me if it’s lost in the mail. I’m sending it to one of the SoulBond distribution centers and they send it to you from there? Like I said, questionable.
> 
> That’s enough awkward babbling before I ask the question.
> 
> Do you want to meet? Exchange info? Do you want to know anything about me? I’m a man, and Kylo isn’t my real name. Kira isn’t yours, either? My friend said the names they assign for anonymity are usually more normal, but Kylo’s an interesting one. 
> 
> I guess that was more than one question.
> 
> I’d love to tell you my name. Name, address, phone number, designation, anything.
> 
> I hope you want to meet. If you’d rather wait, that's okay, too. Meeting you is something I’ve wanted for a long time, but I would wait years longer if you need.
> 
> I hope to hear from you soon. 
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Kylo

_Please do not respond to this message. To respond or to see further attachments, please log into your SoulBond account._

* * *

As she sinks into the chair she picked when she walked into the library—the chair that’s at a perfect vantage point to spot whether one of the librarians is coming to scold her again—Rey stares at the email, reading it over and over.

She has a soulmate. He exists. He’s a real person, somewhere out in the world. Her “perfect match.” The gift she received was proof, but this is even _more_ proof. It’s not a surprise. Everyone has a soulmate (or two, or even three, though that’s rare). Most meet and sometimes even marry within days and live happily ever after (supposedly), but some are platonic. Some are even family, and the soulmate status acts as a way of deepening their friendship.

Kylo, or whatever his real name is, could be either kind—platonic, or romantic, but she doubts it’s romantic. It’s one thing to assume the system can match her to someone who might make an exceptional friend and a different thing to trust the system could match her to the person she will, without a doubt, fall in love with.

The temptation to stand and start pacing is overwhelming. Rey settles for biting at her lips.

_Someone she could fall in love with._

That part sounds foolish. It sounds like a child’s fairytale, like the kind she heard from other kids at the orphanage: the tale where a poor beggar girl receives a letter and discovers her soulmate is a prince. It’s as unbelievable and starry-eyed as the stories of young sweethearts who refuse to read their soulmate results, only to find later they are each other’s perfect match.

As she rereads Kylo’s message, she decides not to share this specific opinion with him. He sounds hopeful, like the sort of person who trusts the system to find love. Sharing her thoughts outright seems cruel.

She taps her fingers in a drumming pattern on the desk and considers what information to share. It’s inadvisable to share everything within initial letters, though some do. The initial package all young adults receive warns against that for a very specific reason: the truth of having a _soulmate_ is terrifying and overwhelming. It’s not unheard of for people to struggle with processing the news, especially in the case of sibling soulmates, though nobody else has handled it quite so poorly as the Boleyn sisters did.

Sitcoms and romantic movies that tell stories of enemies discovering their soulmate status are wildly popular, but in real life the results are more severe. What does a person do when they receive their results and discover their soulmate is their sibling’s boyfriend? Or when they find they’ve been matched to someone thirty years their senior? Or when an Omega, wishing to be mated to an Alpha, finds their soulmate is a Beta? There are countless reasons the system starts a new pair off with anonymous names and an anonymous messaging system. Easing into the new reality of being a soulmate and _having_ a soulmate is crucial. The system has good reasons for being careful. 

Her fingers fiddle with the necklace she wears. She’s never been a jewelry person—whether it's a lack of interest or lack of jewelry, she’s not sure—but from the moment she checked her PO box and found the little wooden box, it hasn’t felt right to leave it in her backpack. Kylo went through a lot of effort to get it to her, and while he clearly has different expectations for their match, the gift was heartfelt. Rey glances down at it, her mouth curling up on one side at the tiny functional compass pendant that hangs from a long chain. It’s long enough so the pendant lands between her breasts, so she’s been wearing it under her sweater. The compass itself has a glass face, protecting the tiny dial inside. It’s barely the size of a quarter.

She stares for only another moment before tucking it back under her sweater and looking back to her computer. Kylo’s message is sitting there on her screen, waiting for a reply. The work she planned to do this morning is also sitting there waiting for her, but making him wait longer seems unfair when he’s already waited over two weeks. Steeling herself, she logs into her SoulBond account and begins to type.

* * *

 **From:** kiraren@soulbond.com 

**To:** kyloren@soulbond.com

 **Subject:** RE: Hi [DRAFT]

Kylo,

The necklace is beautiful. Thank you. I also don’t wish to presume anything related to our living situations.

For now, I prefer we use our anonymous names, because

* * *

Rey pauses, frowning at her screen and reading the words back to herself. She sounds like she’s accepting a job interview. It’s almost cold, which is perhaps not fair. At the very least, this man is guaranteed to make an exceptional friend, and right now she’s responding as though they are and will forever be strangers. She takes a calming breath, and tries again—tries to talk with him as she might a friend. 

* * *

**From:** kiraren@soulbond.com 

**Sent:** Thursday, January 17, 2019 10:16 AM

 **To:** kyloren@soulbond.com

 **Subject:** RE: Hi

Kylo,

Hi. Don't worry, all early messages between soulmates are probably awkward. What are we supposed to say? _Hi, nice to meet you, sorry you’re stuck with me?_

For the record, the weather here is miserable. Winters are a mess of snow and freezing rain, springs are a mix of slushy melted snow and rain, summers are scorching, and fall is early winter. 

I appreciate you saying you’d be okay with waiting. I don’t mean to disappoint, but I’d like to get to know each other this way first. For now, I suppose I don’t mind saying my name is also not Kira, though it’s prettier than my real name. As far as designation, I’m an Omega, though I’m not sure I’m a very good one, and I’m a woman. 

It’s kind of you to have sent me a gift. I haven’t taken it off since it arrived, and I hope it wasn’t too much trouble to send me. Is there any significance behind the compass? It’s beautiful.

Can I ask, what’s your opinion on soulmates? What sort do you think we are?

Sorry, that’s an intense thing to ask in a first letter.

Thanks for writing, and thank you, again, for this necklace. It’s beautiful.

Kira 

* * *

Most of it is a vast improvement, though she already regrets asking him what sort of soulmates he thinks they are. It's clear he assumes they’re the traditional type, but the question is worth asking.

Kylo’s response is so quick it surprises her. She glances around to see if anyone noticed her computer chime before diving in, but the library is still just as empty as it was ten minutes earlier. Two grad students, ones she recognizes as fellow coffee-chugging library regulars, are lounging in the circle of uncomfortable red armchairs that splits the fiction section from the start of non-fiction, but the area is silent.

* * *

 **From:** kiraren@soulbond.com 

**Sent:** Thursday, January 17, 2019 10:24 AM

 **To:** kyloren@soulbond.com

 **Subject:** RE: RE: Hi

Kira,

Sorry, my message will be short since I’m at work, but I can’t believe you wrote back. 

We can wait as long as you want.

The compass. Forgive me, but it’s sappy and sentimental. It’s meant to guide you home, which is me, I hope. Or, maybe it might be me in the future.

As far as what kind of soulmates we are. Are you talking about how some soulmates are relatives, or close friends? I have one of those soulmate pairs in my family—siblings, my mother and uncle. Given how small my family is, we can cross family off the list, and I’ve never met a non-related and non-romantic Alpha-Omega soulmate pair, though I suppose it’s possible.

It’s up to you whether we meet or even exchange information, and I don’t want you to feel pressured to do either. I want to get to know you in whatever way you’re comfortable with.

I doubt _Kira_ is prettier, but if you tell me your real name, we’ll know for sure.

Yours,

Kylo

* * *

Rey huffs, but she’s not annoyed. There’s a lot to process just from a handful of words. The compass hanging from her neck has a whole new meaning, and she’s not sure how to feel about it, so she moves on to the next bombshell— _Alpha._ Her soulmate is an Alpha, and he’s right. Given her designation and their lack of relation, the odds of them being anything but intended romantic soulmates is almost unheard of. 

She isn’t sure how to react to most of that, so she doesn’t.

* * *

 **From:** kiraren@soulbond.com 

**Sent:** Thursday, January 17, 2019 10:35 AM

 **To:** kyloren@soulbond.com

 **Subject:** RE: RE: RE: Hi

Kylo,

It’s possible _Kira_ is prettier than my real name. What if my parents were like the celebrities who give their kids strange names? What if my name is ‘Apple’, or ‘Camera’, or ‘Moon Unit’?

Kira

* * *

 **From:** kyloren@soulbond.com

 **Sent:** Thursday, January 17, 2019 10:42 AM

 **To:** kiraren@soulbond.com

 **Subject:** [pretend I came up with a witty subject, I haven’t had coffee]

I have a feeling you might make a very cute _Apple._

Sorry, I need to make coffee and get back to work.

Talk to you later?

Yours,

Kylo

* * *

Rey can’t help her laugh when she sees the subject line. 

It’s a little annoying how at-ease she is after just a few messages, so she closes the SoulBond messaging system and returns to what she came here to do—try to figure out what the hell she might write her thesis on. Per their shared calendar, her graduate adviser has them scheduled to meet tomorrow, and Rey cringes at the thought. He’s a wonderful person to work with, but she’s far from prepared. It’s not a meeting she’s looking forward to.

Spring semester at ChandrilaU is five days from starting, which means undergrad move-in starts tomorrow. It also means she can finally move into her new on-campus apartment, a blessing since she’s been sleeping on Finn’s couch for the entire three weeks of winter break. There’s only one day left. One more glorious day of having ChandrilaU’s library all to herself. These moments of quiet before thousands of undergrads return are priceless.

Rey leans back in one of the fancy neon green ergonomic desk chairs the University recently bought and props her feet up on the desk in front of her. The textbook she stole from reserves is propped on her lap, and she’s doing her best to avoid getting crumbs from her chips on it.

An annoyed throat clears from behind her, and Rey startles. The book slips from her lap as she attempts to slide her feet off the desk, and in catching it, she spills her bag of chips all over the floor. With a muttered swear, she glances back at whoever interrupted.

 _Shit_.

She wants to sink into the floor. The new librarian, the one replacing Amilyn now that she’s taking a sabbatical, is staring at her, wearing a stony grimace and looking like the personification of a pissed off gargoyle. He’s exactly the person she was looking to avoid today. She should have stolen the book outright and taken it back to Finn’s.

His size only adds to the underlying threat in his glare. He’s massive. Typical for an Alpha. Rey doesn’t even need to sniff the air to know he is one, but she still takes a deep breath. Even from a distance he smells better than an armful of new books. It’s frustrating how just an inhale raises goosebumps over her skin.

“You again,” he sighs. His voice is rich, and deep. He gestures to her bag of chips, “I assume by now you know eating in the library—” Mid-sentence, his head tilts down, and she notices how his hair curls. It’s tousled, like he runs his hands through it whenever he’s lost in thought. An annoyed, strangled sound slips from his mouth. “Is that one of our reserve books?”

With her mouth full of chips, she shakes her head dumbly, and then swallows.

His eyes narrow. “It is, isn’t it? Look, there’s a blue sticker on the spine.”

“Okay, yes,” she groans. “Yes, it’s a reserve book, so sue me. The chairs in the reserve section have no lower back support and there’s someone using the photocopier, and that machine is obnoxiously loud. Is it a crime that I want to read in peace?”

He stares her down and folds his arms over his chest, his forearms straining against his rolled-up sleeves. “Library rules. Reserve books stay in the reserve room unless you want to buy a new copy for the library. I’m happy to look up the price for you. I can bill it to your student account.”

He says it as though there’s extra cash in her student account.

Rey groans again, grabs the book, and holds it out to him. “Fine. Take your stupid book.” 

The man huffs. He takes the text from her and studies it for a moment, then hums. “ _A Good Match: The Cultural Impact of Soulmates_ … interesting reading material.” 

She doesn’t bother snapping back the way she wants to, and instead logs out of the computer and shoves her things in her polka-dotted purple backpack that’s possibly a little too childish for a grad student. He’s still there, watching her with a burning curiosity. Under his gaze, there’s a fluttering in her chest, a shiver that goes up her spine. Typical, stupid Omega reactions.

Rey rolls her eyes, mostly at herself. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Why?” His head tilts again. He’s studying her like she’s prey, and it only firms her resolve. “Plan to submit another complaint about me?”

Ah, right. Slowly, she grins. “You were rude. And is that why you don’t wear a name-tag? Too many people would submit complaints?”

“So far I’ve only caught your attention,” he comments, the corner of his mouth twitching into a semblance of a smile. “Do you have any idea how long it took to fix what you did?”

“Don’t blame me for your books not being organized.”

He snorts. “I worry for the person who taught you how to organize books.”

“You didn’t even have them sorted!” she argues, finally snapping. “You had Ackbar’s book on soulmates _stacks_ away from his autobiography! I did you a favor.”

“A favor?” He’s looking at her as though he’s bewildered and can’t decide whether to laugh or kick her out. “It took days to undo your mess. And why would those books be next to each other? Biographies and books on culture are in two different classes, of _course_ they wouldn’t be—” he pauses then, and gives an exasperated sigh. “Do you know anything of the Dewey Decimal Classification System, or did you assume we organize all non-fiction by author and alphabetically?”

That gives her pause. “Dewey Decimal? I—well—no, but you didn’t need to be such an ass about it.”

“Probably not, no,” he admits. “But you didn’t need to submit a complaint. I know that was you.”

Rey glowers at him. “You yelled at me.”

“You deserved it.” 

She’s not above admitting that’s true, especially if she did cause that much additional work, and she’s about to mutter an apology when he mumbles, “Mouthy for an Omega, aren’t you?”

The sound she lets out is akin to an angry hiss. “Bringing designation into this was unnecessary, but now that you have, might I suggest stronger scent-blockers? You’re far from subtle.”

 _“Subtle?_ You want to talk _subtle?”_

From behind him, a throat clears, and Rey peeks past him to see a petite woman with a dark bob standing there with her arms crossed. It’s Rose, she thinks. One of the archivists. “Did you both forget this is a library?” she asks tiredly, as though she’s in desperate need of coffee, or perhaps something stronger. If she works with _him_ , Rey’s not surprised she sounds exhausted.

The man shuts up, his jaw working. It’s clear he’s struggling not to snap at her, and after a minute, he huffs and storms off. Just as well. Alphas can be a nightmare. It’s likely he can tell exactly how she’s reacting to his scent, and that’s not something Rey wants to dwell on.

Even though he’s stormed off, she slings her backpack on and gives the archivist a polite nod that hopefully counts for an apology as she leaves.

Studying at Finn’s will have to do.

~

Ben’s still trying to calm down when he gets to the library’s staff lounge. He runs through a breathing exercise, relaxing more and more by the minute now that he can’t smell her anymore. It’s almost regrettable. All Omegas smell of something to him—most good, though there’s the occasional person he’ll meet who is an obvious mismatch. _She_ is not a mismatch. Most Omegas smell of fruits or like they’re wearing a nice perfume, but her scent isn’t a scent. It’s more like a feeling that comes over him when she’s nearby. Like a cozy, crackling fire bringing warmth despite a raging snowstorm outside. Like a fresh mug of tea enjoyed with his favorite book, or like sleeping in on a Sunday morning.

He sounds delusional.

Ben shakes his head and pours himself a cup of coffee. It’s nothing like a proper cup he’d make at home, but it’s better than nothing. He adds in a bit too much of the creamer he often swipes from Rose’s shelf in the fridge, and takes out his phone. It’s clear this is already becoming a bad habit of his—checking his SoulBond inbox obsessively, even during work.

Kira hasn’t messaged back in twenty-two minutes. He tries not to be disappointed. It’s a miracle she’s even replied at all. The idea that there’s someone out there for him is more than he could have asked for.

Ben stares at her last message to him, trying not to despair over her not jumping at the chance to meet, or at least exchange phone numbers. He’d do anything to hear her voice and not use this anonymous messaging system to talk with her.

“She reply?”

He glances back and sees Rose quirking an eyebrow at him, leaning against the entry to the staff lounge.

“Kira,” Rose clarifies, though she doesn’t need to. With a smile, the woman points out, “You’ve been staring at your phone for weeks. Better not let Snoke catch you. You know how he is about that stuff.”

Ben cringes. “I know. And, yes. She did.” Even he can hear the softness seep into his voice. “We emailed a bit this morning.”

“So when do I get to meet her?” Rose’s face is a cross between delighted and downright predatory. “I have _lots_ of questions for anyone matched to you.”

He shakes his head, trying to muster up a meager grin, but her question makes his heart sink. “I don’t think she’s ready to meet. She wants to stick to anonymous messaging and the fake names for a while.”

“Oh. Well, that’s normal. Don’t let it bother you,” Rose says kindly. She crosses the room to get coffee for herself, giving him a _look_ when she notices her creamer is already out on the counter. Ben has no doubt that if anyone save for him or Hux stole her sacred creamer, they might be ripped to shreds. She sighs. “You’re a menace. Anyway, it took Armie months before he even replied. I was frantic, but some people need time to adjust.”

The reminder is a relief. Rose, another Alpha, has been mated and married to her soulmate for almost a year now. The two of them are the closest thing Ben’s had to friends in a very long time. 

Rose clinks her coffee mug to his as if in celebration. “Hey, she messaged back. That’s _huge,_ Ben. A big first step. What did you say? How did the conversation go? You declare your undying love yet?”

He hesitates for only a moment before the blush sets in. “No. I spent a whole paragraph talking about the weather.”

Rose snorts. “You bitch about it to everyone, why wouldn’t you include that in your message? Did you send the necklace? Did she like it? C’mon,” she prods, “I’ve been waiting forever to see you matched up. God knows it’ll take a hell of a person to be _your_ soulmate. What’d she say? What’s she like?”

“Yeah, I sent it. She liked it, I think. She’s…” He hesitates, thinking over their brief conversation. “She’s funny. She wouldn’t tell me her real name, but said she’s an Omega, and she asked what kind of soulmates I think we are.”

As she sips her coffee, Rose hums. “Isn’t it something like less than five or ten percent of soulmate pairs are non-romantic? Must be a lot less for an Alpha-Omega pairings. Kind of a weird thing to ask.”

He shrugs. “Maybe it’s daunting. It _is_ scary to think we’re a perfect match. There’s pressure there.”

“Mm, that’s true. I was terrified when Armie and I picked a day to meet. I kept worrying he wouldn’t like me once he met me—wouldn’t like my scent, or a woman being his Alpha. Paige was so annoyed with me. I spent the whole morning pacing around the airport waiting for his flight to get in until she laughed and told me I was worrying for nothing. She was right. It was silly. We were in love the moment we met.” Her smile falls, and she shrugs. “Daunting or not, how can anyone be sure unless they take the risk and meet their soulmate?”

It’s a good question. 

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to pressure her.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Rose agrees. “Especially since you just started talking.” She takes a few steps toward him and reaches up, frowning when she remembers she’s too short to ruffle his hair. Ben sighs, bending down to let her, and she laughs as she messes it up, like he’s her little brother. “She better change her mind soon, though. You’re too grumpy. I saw you grinning at your phone this morning, and if she can make you smile with an email, just think! When you meet in real life, you might _laugh_. It would be a miracle. We’d need to get a picture just to be sure it really happened.”

Ben rolls his eyes at her, though it’s playful.

“Just don’t let Snoke catch you pining,” she reminds him, her voice suddenly quiet. “You know how he feels about this soulmate stuff. He’ll be pissed if he thinks your work will be derailed by a soulmate.”

Ben grimaces. “What, did he assume I’d never have one? I can be both a librarian and a soulmate, and I don’t care about whatever career plans he has for me.”

“Glad to hear it,” she grins. On her way out of the lounge she turns back. “Oh, hey, your new roommate moves in tomorrow, right? It’s so weird that you still live in a University apartment.”

“It’s not like I’m in the dorms. It’s just University-owned, and it’s a lot cheaper. At least I don’t need to wait a month when I put in a work order for something. Commute’s easy, too.”

“Mm, well good luck. Let’s hope you don’t get someone miserable. If you lived off-campus you’d get to pick your own roommate, you know.”

With his eyes on his screen, which is displaying a new message from Kira, he nods absentmindedly. Rose’s words barely flit across his mind. 

There’s an odd sense of peace that comes with knowing she’s out there somewhere.

It’s like he’s spent his whole life as a broken compass, spinning without direction, in search of north. The spinning came to a screeching halt weeks ago, the moment he saw that first email from SoulBond, because there she was.

His north. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the texting parts to show, make sure the creator's style isn't hidden.

It takes Ben three more messages back and forth with Kira to tire of SoulBond's messaging system. For an organization as old and advanced and widespread as SoulBond, he expects something more sophisticated than 2000s era Yahoo email. Luckily, Kira agrees, and that very night, they swap over to a smartphone app she suggests—texting that's as (frustratingly) anonymous as the messaging system without the annoying interface. Within seconds of installing the app she suggested, he turns on notifications for it and opens it up, registering with his Soulbond email address.

His heart leaps when he sees a notification waiting.

  
hi again  
this better?  
It's much better. Hello, again. How was your day? How did studying go?  
didn't study, i was prepping for a meeting w/my advisor, it's going to suck  
you?  
How was my day? Amazing. I can't believe you messaged back.  
What do you study?  
I'm sorry. You don't need to tell me Am I correct in thinking you don’t want to share identifying info?  
maybe not yet  
sorry, i'm sure i'm not what you expected  
No, you aren't. I never thought I would be lucky enough to get a response.  
Do you have a favorite dessert?  
gotta ask, are you a professor or something?  
you text like a professor  
also, cheese fries with gravy  
Because I know how to use capital letters, I'm a professor?  
Is this where I'd say "LOL"? No, I'm not a professor, and cheese fries are not a dessert.  
anything is dessert if eaten after dinner  
your turn  
I don't like sweets.  
there's the other shoe, dropping. what kind of monster doesn't like sweets?  
I could make an exception for you.  
that was terrible. favorite book genre?  
That's an impossible question. Can anyone pick a single genre? ever heard of cozy cat mysteries?  
Oh my god. And you call ME a monster?  
if you throw shade at cozy cat mysteries, yes  
From context I assume that means I'm insulting them? If so, then yes. I'm a monster. Those can't be called books. I have the authority to say that.  
(Please assume I'm teasing)  
If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you looking forward to your meeting?  
they're great books. literary classics. you just have bad taste meeting w/my advisor? i'm unprepared. it's my fault  
speaking of, i should sleep  
need to wake up early & prep more  
Sleep well. I'll think of more questions. Goodnight :)  
Is it odd to say I wish I could say that in person?  
mm, i don't think so. it's nice  
goodnight

It's silly, but his thumb slides over the screen, over her message, as if he'll be able to feel the indentation of the letters. He can't, of course, but he still stares at their screen—at their messages—until he falls asleep.

Just as he drifts off, he realizes they're going to sleep at the same time, which suggests they're in similar time zones. Possibly even the same one.

He sleeps a little better than usual, knowing she might be close.

* * *

Professor Luke Skywalker's office is the quintessential professor's office. The walls are lined with antique bookshelves—the kind decorated with carvings, smoothed around the edges of the detailed leaves and flowers. She's never seen ones like them, but even more impressive is how they're all filled to the brim with texts in a dozen languages. Between the books are the occasional framed picture, a joke trophy (he's won _Worst Intro Class Professor_ , which doesn't come as a surprise), and a skull model of an early australopithecine. An overstated mahogany desk sits in the middle of all of it, messy with a forest's worth of papers. It somehow looks more chaotic now than it does when classes are in-session.

They'd agreed 10 AM sharp, and here she is, let into his office by an administrative assistant and waiting around like fresh meat for him to cut into. Maybe it's silly that she's pacing. Maybe Professor Skywalker won't be as demanding and brash as she's expecting him to be. It's possible he's had a complete personality change since their last meeting in early December, when he looked her right in the eye and called her aimless and arrogant.

It's a relief to hear her phone ding. For a moment, she hopes it's Professor Skywalker cancelling on her, but it's something better.

Good morning.   
Good luck with your meeting today. I'm sure it won't be as bad as you expect.   
If it is, I'm here if you want to vent.

It's not much, but it's kind. It's an open door, an offered hand. At least that's how it feels.

The door behind her shuts, and she turns to see Professor Skywalker holding two cups of coffee from the place around the corner. "Ah, there you are," he grins, and for a minute, Rey thinks he might be in a good enough mood for this to be less than painful. He holds out a coffee for her and walks around his desk to sit after she takes it. His heavy robe-like black jacket gets slung around the back of his chair and he gestures for her to sit across the desk from him. His grin turns grim. "We have a lot to discuss."

Just like that, her hope of getting out of this without teeth being pulled dwindles to nothing. She takes a long drink of the coffee he's brought her, wincing at the lack of sugar in it. "We do? Is it about the intro class? I already received the schedule, so—"

"Rey. It's not about the intro class." The look he gives her is tired. "Have you decided? I need your thesis topic." When she hesitates, he sighs, and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Okay. What is it about soulmates you want to dive into? What has the field not looked at that you'd like to study and add? Remember, even research that yields _no results_ has yielded results."

She knows. _Oh,_ does she know. They've discussed this a hundred times since he became her adviser, and he's only gotten more blunt about how she needs to make up her mind. It's understandable—it's part of his job—but it makes her feel aimless. Makes her wish she could go back in time to Freshman year of her Bachelor's, back when her undergraduate adviser was just happy she'd picked a major.

So many decisions, and those decisions aren't easy ones anymore. They aren't little decisions, like whether she should put off the annoying required PE credits, or whether she needs to splurge on another pair of sneakers for all the morning runs she won't actually go on. These choices are life changing. The decision Professor Skywalker asks of her is one that could set her place in the field—the decision that could make or break her entire career, even though it's hardly started.

He's telling her to jump, but she can't see what she's aiming for.

When Professor Skywalker clears his throat, Rey realizes she's been staring off into the distance. "Let's have a conversation," he says. His voice is kinder and less brusque. "Let's talk about soulmates, since that's what your focus is. What do you think about soulmates?"

"I think they're nonsense," she blurts. Slowly, the horror seeps in when she remembers he's made his entire career based on the study of them. Her eyes cut to his. His lips are pursed, but there's amusement in his expression. "Sorry. Maybe not nonsense. I can understand the system being able to match people who are compatible. I have no doubts there. The strongest friendships come from soulmate matches."

"But?"

Rey hesitates. She sips the coffee and lets herself sink into the chair. "But the idea that SoulBond can match someone to the person they will fall in love with… what if people only fall in love with their match because they believe in the system and they believe it _should_ work, so they make it work?"

"Mm. You're suggesting love is a choice, rather than an unstoppable compulsion? Been reading Ackbar?" He nods. "Well, I would agree with you. But I would also suggest there's nothing wrong with someone loving their soulmate simply because they want the relationship to work. Where's the fault in that? I would argue that's more meaningful than blind love. I would argue—and this is a contentious point—that any soulmate bond has the potential to be romantic, or not."

Frowning, she thinks that over and snorts. "Really? _Any_ soulmate bond? What about the ones between family members or platonic friends? Some bonds are clearly not romantic."

"I would argue that," he admits. "I would argue a soulmate is your perfect match. From there, it's up to the individuals what that relationship looks like. Tell me, when you got your results, did they tell you if your bond was romantic or not? Do they make that decision for you, or are you assuming they did?"

Rey stares at him, at his curious expression, and can't muster up a response past a stunned shrug. Professor Skywalker nods.

"I suppose that's something I'd like to know."

He hums. "It's too broad a topic for this kind of thesis. You could spend your entire career on it and not answer that question. I'm not sure anyone can."

"But what about the unusual pairings," she muses. Now that they've started talking, her mind is racing with ideas. "The soulmates most wouldn't consider potentially romantic? What if I studied those? The siblings, the Alphas matched to other Alphas, things like that?"

"And what question would you be asking? What would you be trying to answer? If you talked to those people, what would you ask? What would you want to know?"

That's the trickier part.

"I'm not sure," she admits. "What if I met with matches who are not romantically involved? If we assume your suggestion—that _any_ soulmate match has the potential to be romantic—is correct, then what if we met with the ones that are platonic and ask them why? I would need to establish proper interview questions, and I would need to establish the sort of sample pool I could look at, and _oh,_ this would be more interesting if we looked at this within other cultures, so—"

Professor Skywalker interrupts with a low chuckle. "That's a wide topic. I suggest doing some research, whether that's reading or meeting with people you can talk to for ideas, because you're going to want to have a specific focus in mind for your thesis."

"I'll work on it," she promises. Wryly, she adds, "I still don't believe in romantic soulmates."

Pale blue eyes narrow in on her. "Unhappy with your results?"

The comment hits a little too close to home. There's a twinge of guilt in her chest at the reminder of Kylo—he seems to have no issue believing they're intended to be together. Rey crosses her arms. "Unhappy isn't the right word. Cautious?"

"Scared?"

When she glances up at him, eyebrow raised, his bright blue eyes are, once again, amused. "I've been there," he shrugs. "Receiving results is big, maybe more so for an Omega."

He doesn't wear a ring and isn't mated as far as she can tell, though it's rude to make a point of inspecting the gland hidden just under his collar. Still, it's curious. An Omega his age—and she's known since she first entered his office that he's an Omega, just from the familiar but uninteresting scent—being unmated is odd. But she at least has _some_ social skills, so she doesn't ask.

Professor Skywalker clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Well. You know how to reach me if you ever want to talk about it. For now I feel better knowing you have a direction for your thesis, but given everything…" he pauses, and gives her a thoughtful look as he strokes a hand down his graying beard. "Take the semester. Consider your thesis, yes, but you don't need to start on it until fall. Use your time to think things over. I urge you to consider how your own personal views may influence your academic views, for better or worse. Will you be around this summer?"

She nods. "I'm staying on campus, yes. I usually pick up a few part-time jobs."

"Good. Let's plan to have some meetings related to your thesis toward the end of summer. I think you have an interesting perspective, but I also think you're less likely to understand other perspectives, and that's something I want you to work on. Talk to people who see things differently," he says, with a half-smile. "That's your assignment. Now, I have a department meeting to get to. See you Tuesday? Bright and early, 8 AM Intro class?" With a huff of a laugh, he says, "I bet you regret taking on that TA job now."

She winces at the 8 AM reminder. "A little."

His laughter at that is hearty, and he gestures to the door, waving her off. "Go, get out of here. Get some sleep. We've got ninety-two kids registered and I'll need a lot of help grading. You should relax while you still have a chance."

"I don't need convincing," Rey snorts. "Have a good day, Professor Skywalker."

"See you Tuesday," he calls out, just as she walks through the door. "Remember, use the time wisely. Talk to people. Ask questions. _Listen._ "

She turns back and gives him both a smile and nod, and doesn't say all the things she's thinking—how she's not sure how she's supposed to write about a system she doesn't fully believe in, how she only picked the study of soulmates because everyone else seemed to understand it and she didn't, how she wishes she could live in a world where she could meet someone at a bar or on the street and start a relationship without wondering if that was akin to cheating on a soulmate she's never met.

Rey doesn't say any of it. She only leaves.

It's just as well. Saying any of that would have started another long conversation, and Finn's already waiting outside in the hallway, wearing a giant puffy orange jacket. The multi-colored Doctor Who scarf Poe gifted him is wrapped around his face so thoroughly she can barely make out dark skin and friendly brown eyes. His words are muffled by the scarf. "So? Good news?"

She frowns. "News?"

"Yeah, weren't you going to see if he would approve your thesis?"

"No." She laughs humorlessly. "I don't even have a topic yet. I'm surprised he didn't rip me apart for it."

"Oh." He pulls down the scarf a little, and his smile falls before he shrugs. "Well, sounds like it went okay?"

She tries not to focus on the weird, uncomfortable spiraling thing her mind is doing. Not for the first time, she wonders why she didn't pick a study set more firmly in truth—a study that involved learning facts, and not _feelings_ or interpretation of fact. Again, she doesn't speak these thoughts, because if she does, Finn will get all worried and start over-analyzing her.

"Mm, I think so. Pretty well."

When she looks up, he's back to his sunny, wide grin. "Ready for the big move? Not that Poe and I mind you taking over the couch, but—"

"Yeah, yeah," she waves. "You guys are great, too, but the three of us weren't meant to share a bathroom. Or a kitchen. Or… god, any of it. I'm sorry. It's been a nightmare."

Finn scrunches up his nose. "Kinda has, huh? You meet your new roommate yet?"

"No, but they _must_ be easier to live with than you."

"Hey!" He laughs, obviously not offended. "What are you going to do if they're _worse?"_

She thinks about it for only a moment and shakes her head. "Nah. Not possible."

* * *

It's after five in the evening when Ben leaves the library for his apartment. The sun's been down for an hour, and he trudges through the thick snow-slash-freezing-slush. This is the worst part of winter—it's dark by the time he starts his walk home.

Undergrads have already started trickling back to campus, returning from their break the weekend before classes start back up, but the library—save for the occasional frustrating grad student—has been quiet. It's still kept him busy enough to not have time to look into his new roommate, though University Housing sent him an email with their name and email.

_Rey Johnson._

He's had _weeks_ to reach out to them and get to know them, and in just a day he's put more effort into getting to know Kira, who may as well be a closed book. Not that he resents that—it's understandable, her hesitation. Still, Ben can admit it's disappointing, at least to himself. It's a little like rejection. He'll never tell her that—it's unfair to pressure her into rushing whatever relationship they may have, even if he's waited for this for years—but that doesn't make it less true.

Ben stops just outside his apartment building and closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. The last thing he wants is to be in a terrible mood when he meets his new roommate. With any luck they haven't made a mess of his things. He's lived alone for almost a year, and he's hoping they'll be a positive addition rather than a nightmare.

There's a stack of mail awaiting in the box marked _B. Solo/R. Johnson_ —interesting, they've already added their name next to his. It's scribbled in black sharpie on the little white label, but the only mail there is for him, mostly junk as usual. He gets to his front door and pauses, preparing himself for anything, because with a new roommate it's impossible to predict what might happen. Most of his roommates have been fine, but there was one Alpha three or four years back who was so territorial Ben thought the guy might start pissing in the corners of their apartment.

The unexpected scent at his door almost knocks him back. Not because it's overpowering, but because it's _familiar_ , in the best (and worst) way. It's still the best thing he's ever smelled, but this can't be right. Sure, University Housing is prohibited to make housing decisions based upon designation as long as Alphas and Omegas are on prescribed blockers, but they can't have assigned her to his apartment. It's absurd, or at the very least, it's the worst imaginable luck.

Ben stares at the door for minutes, trying to decide whether he wants to go in. Maybe the woman from the library is Rey's friend, helping Rey move in. There's still hope. He doesn't bother with a deep, steadying breath—given the lingering scent, it would be a mistake—and he opens the door, walking inside and sending up a silent prayer that _she_ isn't his new roommate.

The living room is empty. As far as he can tell, his sparse furniture has been untouched. His couch has a new cobalt blanket folded and tossed across the back of it, and an unfamiliar red woolen jacket hangs on a hook near the front door, but there are no other obvious changes. Ben steps further in, cautiously glancing around. Her scent is stronger here.

There are two cloth grocery bags on his kitchen counter, filled to the brim with dry goods—cans of soup, boxes of mac & cheese, a bag of white rice, and _three_ different cereals (all of which include awful dried marshmallow candies). It's a little horrifying, even more so as he opens up the fridge and sees his new roommate's bought no fresh produce, and only pre-blended smoothies that are more sugar than juice. There are four different kinds of ice cream in the freezer, along with microwave dinners.

For the briefest moment, Ben stares at it all and talks himself out of buying his new roommate a bottle of multivitamins.

Do they even know how to cook?

There's a sound of someone walking around, and he glances out into the living room. It's as he's feared—it's _her,_ dressed in gray leggings and a thick sweater that hangs to her thighs _._ She hasn't spotted him yet, but she's looking around, wide-eyed, like she's being hunted and looking for whatever's stalking her. Something in her scent spikes. It's not panic, exactly, but she's anxious.

"No no no no," she murmurs. "No—"

Ben clears his throat, and she snaps out of it.

Hazel eyes cut to his. The words are breathed out, almost in a whisper, but with the silence in the apartment, he could hear a pin drop. "It really is you."

His jaw tightens. "I'm not exactly happy to see you here, either. Please tell me you aren't Rey."

"Of course I am," she huffs, nervously tucking her soft waves behind one ear. "This is a terrible idea. I knew when I started moving in, but I kept telling myself you lived next door..." Rey's words trail off. She crosses her arms over her chest, grimacing. The movement tugs at the loose neck of her oversized sweater, revealing freckles on her shoulders. "You need scent blockers if we're both going to live here."

"I _have_ them," he snaps. The reaction isn't polite, and it's far from rational, but being in the room surrounded by her is making him twitchy. It's a calming scent coming from an infuriating woman, and the combination isn't good for his sanity. He lets out a breath and runs a hand through his hair, noticing her eyes follow the motion. Her sudden arousal hits like a punch in the face. Ben clears his throat, giving her a pointed look. "I'm not an asshole, I'm obviously on blockers. Maybe it's time to consider that you just react strongly to me."

It's the wrong thing to say. She flushes red and lets out a frustrated exhale, then snatches the blanket off his couch, along with— _son of a bitch_ —the on-reserve textbook she must have gone back and stolen from the library, and storms off down the hall toward their bedrooms.

Her scent lingers, mixing in with his in an intoxicating way that makes him grip at the lip of the kitchen counter so he doesn't follow right behind her and suggest they do some un-roommate-like things.

Ben winces, and then takes a deep breath, which predictably worsens things.

And in only seconds, he wishes he'd gotten an awful roommate. The kind that's a mess and hogs the shower and leaves passive aggressive sticky notes everywhere. The kind that's had little experience living with other people and is inconsiderate, or makes those ridiculous chore-charts and then never does any cleaning.

That would have been simpler.

* * *

She's stewing. It's irrational and even childish, but it's either stewing or she'll start snapping at him again. _Ben Solo_ —at least now she has a name for the asshole librarian who ruins her study plans. He walks past her closed door, headed to his own room, and through the _door_ she can smell him. He's not angry, but certainly irritated. His scent, while normally annoyingly soothing, has taken on a sharper edge.

Living with him is a veritable nightmare. How they'll manage during her heats, Rey has no idea. Awkwardly it's something they'll need to discuss when they're both less pissed off.

When her phone dings, it's a welcome interruption.

I'm sorry I haven't asked how your meeting went.   
Today was busy, and my night took an odd turn.   
odd, bad or good? mine was bad, but the meeting went ok   
I'm glad to hear the meeting went well. My night was also bad. Talking to you is a dramatic improvement.   
I thought of more questions. Do you mind?   
glad i can help. ask away   
It's a very important question.   
i'm intrigued   
Which Hogwarts house are you in? This is a serious question.

Rey laughs out loud at that. She readjusts, laying back on her bed, and holds her phone up over her face, grinning at the screen.

thunderbird  
What is that? That's not a house.  
Oh my god.  
Tell me that's not one of the American houses. Those aren't canon.  
relax, i'm kidding  
slytherin, and judging your "not canon" comment  
you?  
It's not canon, I will argue that fact. I'm Ravenclaw. Slytherin? Interesting.  
don't house-shame me, nerd  
Did you just call me a nerd? Apt. Is that a problem?  
nah  
Good. Favorite Harry Potter book?  
for nostalgia, book 1. for story, book 5  
Wow.  
you disagree? i would fight you on that I've never been more convinced we're soulmates.  
oh. okay. good, it's boring to argue something that's fact  
Very Slytherin of you.  
Thanks for chatting with me tonight. This made things much better.  
i'm glad. goodnight, kylo  
Wait. Do you really wear the necklace?

Rey's fingers still on the screen. Her hand goes to the little compass that rests between her breasts. It's not cold against her skin, and she can feel it faintly under her sweater, sitting there, pointing north. It feels like he's asking more than _does she wear the necklace._ Even so, something possesses her to answer honestly.

yeah, i do   
i haven't taken it off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	3. Chapter 3

"You're here!" She plasters on a smile for Finn—he's standing outside her new apartment door next to his boyfriend and soulmate, Poe, who's looking a little apprehensive.

Poe's eyebrows reach into his hairline as he sniffs and leans into the apartment. "Wow, University Housing really doesn't give a fuck. They assigned you housing with an Alpha?"

"You know they don't organize by designation," she replies, rolling her eyes. She wants to forget about her roommate—he's made it easy to do so by leaving the apartment before she woke and spraying it down with a healthy dose of air freshener, which was a kind gesture even if the can was left on the table with a snide note.

"They don't even ask designation info on the applications. Protected info and all that," she waves. "Plus, I don't get priority as a grad student since I'm not an RA."

Rey stands aside and nods into the apartment, welcoming them in. She didn't check with Ben about his feelings on guests, and if he's like most Alphas, he won't be thrilled to find another one was in his space, but he can suck it up. Poe is hesitant to enter, but does so when she gives him a tired look. It's not that she doesn't like Poe. He's fine. The best soulmate she could have wished for her best friend to have, but there's a chance she liked him better back when the two of them didn't have their soulmate results, and he and Finn were hooking up and keeping their distance and feelings bottled up. Back when she could hang out with her best friend without the two of them being attached at the hip.

She winces at how harsh that is.

"Did you get all moved in after I left?" Finn asks, headed straight for her room. "Sorry I couldn't stay, but—"

"It's fine," she interrupts. "You helped with the big stuff. I got most of it set up after you left, but I've still got things to hang up, and I haven't unpacked my clothes. Half of it is laundry I need to do, anyway."

Poe's glancing around nervously, and she snorts. "He's not here."

" _He?"_

"Yep," she mutters. "Remember that asshole Alpha from the library? The one who yelled at me and almost got me banned?"

Poe's head tilts. "Did he have a reason for it?"

"I reorganized some books that were out of order. Or, well, I thought— _never mind,"_ she groans. "Come on, are you here to help or give me the same lecture Ben did?"

Poe relents, and the three of them get to work in her room. It's larger than she was expecting, and the fact that she won't need to share it is a welcome relief. Sharing a bathroom, kitchen, and common space with _him_ is bad enough. On the bright side, the apartment is furnished, minus her bedroom. For now, that means her room is a little bare. Only a bed—a plain frame she picked up at a secondhand store, plus a box spring and mattress she splurged on—and a desk, which is already piled high with used textbooks she's collected over the years. On top of the book pile is one she stole from the library the day before, after sneaking in when Ben was at lunch.

She smirks at it and then turns to her friends. "You know you guys didn't need to help, right?"

Finn drops onto her bed and swings his legs, shrugging at her. "We didn't have plans, except for a movie later. Maybe we can get your room sorted and order a pizza when it's time for lunch, then we'll head out?"

"Sure," she nods, then points to a giant mass of frames piled in one of her corners. "I don't care where those get hung, but I bought a bunch of those no-damage wall-hanger things, so if you want to help with that while I organize my—"

The chiming of her phone interrupts. It's the special tone for the app she uses to chat with Kylo, so her gaze shoots to it. Rey tries not to smile, but it's impossible when she sees the messages.

Innocuous question of the day:   
What’s one word you’d use to describe yourself?   
Also, good morning.

She huffs a laugh, forgetting her friends are even in the room as she leans against her desk and grips the phone, trying to figure out how to respond. It's a tougher question than she expected, and while she could go with something easy, part of her wants to give a decent answer.

"If you guys had to describe me in a word, what would you use?"

Finn frowns. He glances around the disorganized room as if the answer's there, and shrugs again. "Messy."

"I was thinking _cynic,"_ Poe chimes in from where he's looking out her window.

She winces at both answers. "Maybe I'll go with something else."

good morning. did your night get better?   
i'd say practical   
what's your word?   
My night got much better after we texted.   
As for my word, I didn't prepare an answer.   
Until recently I would have said “lonely”   
Maybe now I’ll say “curious”

"What's got you smiling?" Finn teases, quirking an eyebrow at her from where he still sits on her bed. "Are you texting someone? Aren't all your friends in this room?"

She hesitates. At some point they'll assume she's gotten her results, but she hadn't planned to tell anyone. Not right away.

Poe gets closer, as though he plans to glance at her screen, and on instinct she bares her teeth. It's not a threat, not really. It's akin to telling him to back off, and he holds up his hands in response. "Fine, keep your secrets."

"It's not a secret," she sighs. She shoves the phone in her pocket. "I'll tell you, but it's not a big deal. I got my results, and I've been chatting with him, that's all. We haven't even shared our names yet."

The room goes silent and then explodes a second later.

"Your _soulmate?"_

"Why didn't you tell us?"

" _When did you find out?"_

"What's he—"

Rey holds up her hands, her eyes wide. "Hey, calm down," she chides. "It's not a big deal. You guys know how I feel about this. I found out a couple days ago and we've been chatting since, but we have no plans to meet, okay?"

They turn to each other, and she sees them share a grimace. It's an unsurprising reaction for two people who were together before discovering, with relief, that they were soulmates—an Alpha/Beta pair.

Finn's expression grows concerned. "But Rey..."

"Let's talk about something else," Rey suggests. She turns back to her desk and gets to organizing, arranging her pens and setting up the desk lamp. It's got a heavy stainless steel base and a white lampshade which took an embarrassingly long time to pick out—a reminder that decorating isn't her strong suit. She relaxes when she hears the men behind her start moving around, having decided not to ask further. From the corner of her eye, she can see Poe pick up some frames and look through them.

He huffs. "When did you go to Paris? Or… is this from Brazil? It looks like Ipanema Beach."

"I haven't been," she admits. "Yeah, that's Brazil."

His voice seeping with curiosity, Poe prods, "Have you been to _any_ of these places?" When she shakes her head, he asks—not unkindly, "So why do you have pictures of them?"

Rey shrugs. "Because I'll go someday."

From the bed, Finn laughs. It's not meant to be cruel—she knows him well enough to know that—but it hurts. It hurts, because he knows her claim is untrue. He knows she's spent years planning travels she'll never partake in for a million reasons. She's too busy. Her whole life is here. She couldn't possibly pick a place to go first. It's expensive.

And then there's the reason nobody knows. The reason she's never left this city, and the reason she never will. But she's never going to tell Finn or Poe about that, so she pulls herself together and hollowly laughs along with them.

When they leave hours later, her cheeks hurt from how plastic her smile has been.

ever feel like you wear a mask around people?   
Sometimes with my family, yes.   
how do you deal with it?   
Well, it's much better now. It was bad for a while.   
I stopped going home.

The answer hurts her heart. Just four words, and so much implied sadness behind them. She's not sure how to respond, but he messages again before she gets the chance.

Don't wear a mask for me. Please.   
You don't need to.

The message gives her pause. Her fingers hesitate on the screen. Slowly— _so_ slowly—she types out a reply and clicks send before she can delete it.

i wasn't talking about you   
but i won't.

* * *

When her alarm goes off, Rey's been awake for hours, dreading the first day of classes. She stares up at the popcorn ceiling, but glances over at where her phone sits, plugged into a charger on her nightstand, next to a photo of a stunning sunrise from the top of a mountain she'll never climb.

She sighs, grabbing the phone and silencing it, and her anxious, melancholy mood seeps into something more hopeful when she sees the notifications on her screen.

Good morning.   
We're getting snow. I'm not sure I want to go outside.   
Question of the day:   
Coffee, tea, or...?   
good morning to you, too   
if it has caffeine i'll drink it   
especially today   
Coffee for me, but I'm difficult about it.   
Did you not sleep well?   
stressful day ahead   
are you a coffee snob?   
Maybe. Is that a dealbreaker?   
what if it is?   
For you I'd drink instant coffee.   
The awful powdered kind.   
wow. i'm very flattered   
You should be. Instant coffee is horrible.   
I wish I could keep talking, but I need to get some work done.   
I wish I could hear your voice. Would you consider a phone call?

Rey goes still. They've chatted all weekend—just shallow stuff. She knows silly things like his favorite color (blue, but he usually picks black for clothing), his favorite season (fall), and that he's a vegetarian. But a phone call? Her heart's pounding just at the idea of it. 

how do i know you aren't a murderer   
Wouldn't that imply you are, as well?   
It would at least suggest you have questionable morals.   
okay, fair   
what if i wrote you a letter?   
on paper   
with a pen   
or what if we emailed more   
I'd appreciate it, if you're willing.   
I don't mean to pressure you.   
Sorry, I need to go. Text later?   
i know you aren't pressuring   
i need to go too   
i'll text in a few hours, or maybe around lunch?   
Can't wait.

When she puts her phone down and climbs out of bed, her mood's improved. She's not jump-around-the-room excited for the day, but she's not contemplating emailing Professor Skywalker claiming illness so she can laze about in her room. It's for the best, especially since that's what she's been doing all weekend—hiding away in her room to avoid running into Ben again.

She's pretty sure he's left for the day. Around 6:45 AM she heard a rustling and the shower, and a little later, the front door closing, so Ben's probably started his shift at the library. She tugs on a heavy sweater and jeans, having showered late the night before, and trods out into the apartment, hoping he has a coffeemaker. If not, she'll invest in one. Maybe it'll be an olive branch.

There's a fancy stainless-steel appliance sitting on the counter, between the microwave and a bowl of fruit. Rey frowns at it. It's some sort of coffeemaker, or maybe an espresso maker? She fiddles around with the compartment that holds… coffee beans? Does it grind the beans? Does it take powder? The whole device is spotless. If he used it this morning, he must have spent time cleaning it after. Rey takes maybe three more minutes trying to figure it out before giving up. She's still not convinced it _actually_ makes coffee, and if she needs to stop at a coffee shop before class, she doesn't have time to mess around with whatever the gadget is.

Outside, the wind whips snow in swirling patterns, scattering it over sidewalks and blowing her hair back, even as she pulls her jacket tight around her. She shoves her gloves on and tries not to shiver. It's laughable that Kylo suggested moving _here_ to avoid cold weather. Even with a heavy sweater and proper wool winter jacket, she's freezing. The sidewalks are full of returned undergrads, all bustling along to their morning classes, and she winces when she sees the occasional freshman or transfer who looks unprepared for the bitter cold of mid-January. It's always an adjustment for some students.

It's tempting to message Kylo back and tell him it's snowing here, too—part of her wants to lament with him over the miserable weather, but she's trying to be careful since they might be in the same time zone. If they're getting the same weather, they might be closer than she expected. There's no clear line of what to share and what to hold back, and even if there is a line, it's getting blurrier with every message.

Rey makes it to the lecture hall just in time, mourning the coffee she didn't have time to pick up thanks to all the slow-walking students, and rushes up to the front, where Professor Skywalker waits for her. There are still three minutes until class, but she was supposed to arrive twelve minutes ago.

He quirks an eyebrow as she approaches. "Late start?"

"Didn't we say 8?" she argues, smiling at him.

Professor Skywalker snorts, but doesn't give her a hard time. "It's okay, everyone knows today is syllabus day. Some of these kids will drop the class by next week, anyway. All I need you to do today is sit somewhere in the front so I can introduce you. Your email is listed on the syllabus with mine, so if they have questions, they're more likely to email than come up after class. Sound okay?"

He asks it as though this is a major inconvenience for her, working with a man brilliant enough in his field that he's managed to become a tenured professor as an unmated male Omega.

"It sounds perfect."

"Great." He claps his hands together and rubs his palms as if excited. "Go, take a seat. I'm just going over the syllabus and then I'm going to send them off early. My guess is the campus will cancel afternoon classes. We're looking at 6-8 inches by tonight, you know."

Her eyes go wide. "I didn't realize."

"Mhm. Go sit down, I'll get things started." She nods and steps toward the front row when he calls back, "Oh, Rey, something else."

Rey turns back, and he continues, "About your thesis. Would it help if you met an unconventional soulmate pair? My sister's an Alpha, and she'd be interested in meeting you. She said she wouldn't mind having lunch sometime, if you'd like."

"That'd be great," she blurts, a little stunned by the offer. Professor Skywalker can be a frustrating man to deal with, but she often forgets how kind he can be.

"Good, I'll give her your email." He gestures to the front row. "Let's get this over with so we can send everyone home."

She does as told, taking a seat in the front row, all the way to the left. Luckily she won't need to attend all the lectures, but Professor Skywalker wants a hand with grading and administering tests, and since she'll be a resource for the students, it's good to be here for the first few classes. When it doesn't seem like more students are arriving—there are already at least sixty or so seated—Professor Skywalker addresses the room. As he introduces himself and moves through the syllabus, explaining what the introductory Anthropology course will cover (the usual mix of culture and biology, and a heavy heaping of both when they study soulmates), Rey hears two students talking behind her.

They aren't loud enough to reach Professor Skywalker, but she hears their conversation.

"—doing an internship at Soul Bond London. What are you planning to do?"

"Study abroad. Right now I'm waiting to hear about the program in Tatooine. Their archaeology program is so good. I just can't stay here. I feel like I'm going to rot from the inside out."

"Oof, I know, Chandrila's nice, but what's the point of college if you don't get out? Home is like, 30 minutes away, I'm basically in my backyard, so—"

That's when she can't bear to hear anymore. She turns around and gives them a pointed _shut up_ expression. One of the girls rolls her eyes, but the other mouths _sorry_.

Rey turns back to the front before the panic swells in her chest.

It's a blessing when Luke releases the class twenty minutes later. He waves her off, not noticing her tight smile, and tells her to get home safe. That's all the excuse Rey needs to rush off and out of the building. When she steps outside, it's snowing harder. White bits fall from the sky, so heavily it builds up on her jacket and backpack within moments. She just stands there outside the building, sucking in deep breaths of frigid air. She closes her eyes and tilts her head up, letting it fall on her.

It's barely a thought to take out her phone and text him.

ever feel like you're waiting for life to start?   
Your questions are much deeper than mine.   
I should get to ask 2-3 for each of these.   
I think I know what you mean, though.   
Like you’re watching everyone live and be happy and fall in love?   
And you want that, but don't know how to get it?   
sort of   
how do you get past that?   
I'm not sure, but I can guess.   
You do the thing that scares you.   
What are you afraid of?

She stops, staring at the question. Five innocent little words shouldn't fill her with more trepidation than an exam worth 60% of a grade, but they _do._

i don't know   
Well, maybe you should try to figure it out.

* * *

An elbow finds his side, and Ben grumbles something incoherent before he sees Rose next to him, tilting her head. She loves to bug him when she's on break. "What's got you so grumpy today? More roommate issues? Because that seems like karma if you ask me."

"I didn't ask," he sighs. Sliding the phone back in his pocket, he leans back against the abandoned and idle front desk he's stationed at until one of their new hires shows up for the day. The library is a ghost town. "It's… her. Kira. It sounds like she's dealing with some things, and I want to be there for her, but she's not making it easy."

"Keeping her distance?"

"Yeah. And I respect it, but right now I'm trying to get to know her, and she sounds… sad. Maybe not sad, but confused?" He taps his fingers on the desk he's leaning against and works his mouth. "I hate that I can't help her."

Her hand lands on his and squeezes. "That's sweet. I understand. I would hate it if Armie was upset about something and wouldn't let me help." Rose hesitates, and hums. "What if you told her? Like, told her you're bothered by this, and you can tell she's upset about something and you want to help, but you don't know how. See what she says. Maybe knowing you want to be there for her will be enough."

Ben's not sure what he did to earn this friendship with Rose. They've got little in common, save for their designation and employer. She's genuine and kind, doesn't take any bullshit, and she could do so much better than him in terms of friendship. He offers the most he can—a half-hearted smile. "Thanks. I'll try it."

"Good," she grins. "You should. Now—they announced that we're closing for the rest of the day. That's why I came over here. The snow's picked up, so any non-essential staff members are being dismissed. I don't know why they even bothered having us show up this morning."

That _should_ be a positive thing. He should be thrilled to have the day off, but if he's been dismissed, that means Rey will be too, unless she's got an off-campus job.

Rose must notice the wince that crosses his face, because she gives an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, come on. You're still having roommate issues, aren't you? Since when do I need to give you advice with women? Can't you just go back to your awkward, loner self?" She pauses, and groans. "No, I don't mean that. But come on, Ben. You're living in the same space—one of you needs to call a truce."

"I don't see it working," he says with a shrug. It's true—they avoided each other all weekend, but that won't be possible to keep up for an entire semester. "We don't get along. She's frustrating and I'm not friendly—you know that—and god, you should see the shit she filled my kitchen with. Oh, oh, and she put my bread in the fridge. It's all hard now, and she pushed aside all my spices to make room for boxes of cereal. My _spices_."

The woman next to him snorts. "Let me guess, you had them perfectly organized? Alphabetically, or by usage?"

"By region of origin, then alphabetical."

"Very logical," Rose nods, keeping a straight face.

"You're making fun of me."

"I would never."

Ben rolls his eyes when she slips up and grins. She laughs, and says, "You're just used to living alone. You got lucky, having that apartment to yourself for a while, but you knew they'd fill the second bedroom eventually. This is what you get for still using campus housing. Your life will be a lot easier if you start thinking of the space as yours _and_ hers. I'm serious, one of you needs to call a truce, and I don't get the impression she will."

He's already shoving his arms in jacket sleeves when she says it. "I know. And I know you're right. I _hate_ that you're right. You headed out, too?"

"Armie's picking me up."

"Good. Get home safe, okay?"

"You, too. Are you sure you want to walk? We can give you a ride."

Ben waves her off with another goodbye and leaves, glad for an excuse to get out of the building. At least, he's glad until he gets outside and sees the snow. It's coming down in giant clumps, already built up on the branches of the trees that line the sidewalk. There are at least a few inches built up on the ground, and when he sees someone walking in the distance slip, flail, and fall, he mutters a swear. Maybe he _should_ have gotten a ride. The streets are mostly empty thanks to the snow, and when he realizes the downed pedestrian isn't getting up, his eyes widen. As carefully as he can, Ben rushes over to them, hoping they didn't hit their head or break something. The _last_ thing he needs is to stick around and wait for an ambulance.

He stills when he notices the bright red coat—the same one that's been hanging in his apartment for a few days. Three more giant steps get him to Rey, who's groaning and sitting up, much to his relief.

"You didn't hit your head, did you?"

She startles, jerking her head to look at him while she clutches a hand to her chest in surprise. "Jesus Ben, put a bell on or something. I didn't even hear you." He gives her a sheepish look, and she shakes her head. "I'm fine, just sore. Nothing a hot shower and a heating pad won't fix."

Ben narrows his eyes, bending down to inspect her more closely. "You didn't twist an ankle? Didn't bruise anything? The clinic is—"

Rey interrupts with a groan. "Oh _stop_ being all Alpha-y." She flexes her foot, rolling her ankle as if to prove a point, and he doesn't miss the wince that crosses her expression. "You aren't my Alpha," she mutters.

He can't help but let out a dry laugh. "Thank god for small mercies."

"Has anyone ever told you you're an asshole?"

His plans for declaring a truce melt away like fluffy snow being attacked with a hairdryer. "Are you ever not rude?" At the furious look she gives him, he presses his lips to a thin line. "Look, I'm not being _all Alpha-y,_ I saw you fall and wanted to help. Most people would just call that _being nice_."

"So you see why I'm suspicious? You, nice?"

Ben bites his mouth closed, trying not to snap at her again. "Wasn't it nice that I didn't tell anyone you stole that book from library reserves?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't."

Glancing around, he realizes the snow's coming down even harder. Still on the ground, Rey grabs onto the bench next to her and tries to stand, but starts to slip again on the cobblestone sidewalk. It's barely a thought to reach out and catch her arm. Ben pulls her up, steadying her with an arm around her, and despite her deep frown, she lets him.

"Are you going to let me help you get to the apartment, or are you going to be difficult?"

She grimaces. "I'm still deciding."

"We're twenty feet away," he points out. "Do you really hate me that much?"

Her jaw sets. "Fine."

It's reluctant, but Rey leans into his side and lets him walk next to her. She doesn't argue when his grip on her side tightens so she won't slip again, which makes him wonder how much pain she's in. They go the rest of the way in silence, and she only starts to lose her footing when they're by the stairs. He almost falls right along with her and curses the cobblestone for being such a hazard.

Ben grabs the railing to their buildings' front steps, and he hears Rey let out a yelp just as she grabs at the front of his jacket to stabilize herself.

As he catches his breath, he realizes she's close. Very close. Her forehead presses to his shoulder as her breathing slows to a normal pace. He's a little lost in the scent coming off her. It's all he can do to stop himself from leaning down and nuzzling into the waves of her hair. She's gone from feeling angry to something softer, and it's an instant balm—more relaxing than a great night's sleep.

Rey clears her throat, seeming to notice how close they are. She steps back quickly. _Too_ quickly. The motion causes her to slip again, so she grabs onto the railing on the other side of the stairs for balance.

When she gets herself steady, her eyes flick up to his. It's obvious she's grappling with the same overwhelming reaction he is.

Ben's not even sure how long they stare at each other before he blurts out, "I have a soulmate."

It's a stupid thing to say. Everyone has a soulmate and having one doesn't prevent people from doing… whatever they just did.

"Me, too," she replies quickly, sounding relieved. "Me, too. He's very kind."

"Good, yeah, that's good," he babbles, trying to stop staring. "Mine is—she's great. We talk every day."

Rey pauses. "Bummer for her."

The sigh he lets out is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	4. Chapter 4

> Jan 30, 2019
> 
> Kylo,
> 
> I'm sorry it took me so long to write this. I'm sorry it's not on fancy paper, and I'm sorry my handwriting is a mess, and... I'm just sorry. You should have gotten a soulmate who would meet you right away. Someone who wouldn't text you deep questions whenever they start panicking about life.
> 
> You were right. I _am_ scared about this. How could I not be? Aren't you? What if I'm awful? What if we don't like the same things, or what if you find my voice grating, or what if we disagree on the important stuff? What if you think I'm boring, or you find out I'm a terrible cook?
> 
> I'll tell you all the awful things now.
> 
> I'm so bad at cooking I mostly live off dry cereal and takeout. I've ruined multiple loads of laundry by keeping gum in my pockets. I eat pizza crust first (I've been told this is a cardinal sin), and I'm incapable of deciding things, such as where to eat. I'll spend an entire day sleeping, I rarely use proper punctuation in texts (sorry), and I spend an unhealthy amount of time watching cat videos online, specifically ones where they sneeze and scare themselves. I've yelled at a stranger in public for littering. But the worst thing is that I seem to have a very kind soulmate and am too afraid to tell him my name. What if he gets to know me and then the _one_ person in the world who should care about me… doesn't?
> 
> That's far from a comprehensive list. I could go on, but there's a limit to how much paper fits in an envelope.
> 
> I'm sure when you said "I'd like to know more about you" this wasn't what you had in mind, so I'm going to make that up to you now. Here are the answers to the questions you've asked that I haven't dared to answer:
> 
> — What do I study? I'm a grad student, studying a type of anthropology. I don't know what I want to do with it. Part of me wants to stay in school so I don't need to decide.
> 
> — Am I afraid to meet you? Yes. Very. Not because of you. You seem great. You've been patient and handled me being weird and uncomfortable better than I expected. But yes, I'm afraid. At the very least, we're intended to be close friends, and half the time I feel like my friends barely know me. I'm worried that once you do get to know me, you won't like what you're stuck with.
> 
> — Do I really wear the necklace you sent? I answered this, but I want to elaborate. Yes, always. Except when I shower and sometimes when I sleep.
> 
> Some facts you haven't asked for:
> 
> —My favorite kind of ice cream is mint chocolate chip, topped with caramel sauce. Yes, I know that's odd, but it's delicious.
> 
> —The worst date I ever went on involved a man who, I discovered over dinner, was "on a break" with his girlfriend. She showed up after appetizers and started yelling. She claimed it was cheating, he insisted they were on a break, and it spiraled from there. I left during the yelling and never saw either of them again.
> 
> —Pine-tree scented candles are an abomination.
> 
> —Whoever wrote the ending to "Titanic" should be ashamed of themselves.
> 
> That's probably enough. I hope you write back.
> 
> Kira

* * *

Ben reads over the letter two or three times, just as he does every night. It's resting on his dresser, and he doesn't dare to touch it much—he's only been out of his post-work shower for a few minutes and doesn't want to get the paper wet. He wrote her back immediately, but thanks to SoulBond's mailing system, designed to keep soulmate's addresses anonymous, it seems to take a while for delivery. Kira hasn't mentioned receiving his response, and it's made him nervous all week.

He knows every word of her letter by heart. Even after dozens of rereads, it takes him from downhearted—a point he reaches somewhere around " _What if I'm awful?"_ —to laughing, which he does multiple times, especially at the strange comment about pine-tree candles.

It still kills him to hear why she's scared.

Have you gotten my letter? I’m sorry the system’s so slow.   
I keep reading yours.   
Happy Valentines, by the way.

While waiting for a reply he changes into pajamas, pulling on thick sweatpants and a sweater. Despite running hot, he's still cold enough to bundle up; mid-February is freezing on the best of days, and the campus apartments are drafty.

His phone dings, and he glances up at it in the middle of yanking socks on.

sorry, haven't checked my mail today.   
happy valentines!  any plans?   
Does takeout and texting you count?   
great minds think alike   
No hot dates, then?   
no. would that bother you?   
i don't really know the protocol here   
We haven't exchanged names, it seems unreasonable to request monogamy.   
I've been meaning to ask...   
Pine tree scented candles?   
oh god   
most alphas i meet smell like them   
one or two isn't bad but when they all smell like pine trees?   
there might be something wrong with me, omega-wise

Ben pauses. He turns his head to sniff his shoulder. He doesn't _think_ he smells like pine trees… still, the idea that he might smell repulsive to his Omega—

Well, not his Omega. Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever, but his mind spins and spirals as he starts pacing, worrying about what he might smell like to her.

you're panicking, aren't you?  
i doubt you smell like pine trees  
the universe can't be THAT cruel  
What if it's worse?  
What if I smell like I just walked through that store at malls?  
Bath and Body Works? I can't walk past it without getting a headache.  
or maybe you're worrying for no reason There's this phrase. Pot, kettle, something?  
what's your point  
This letter. How could I think you're awful?  
You listed all these things. "Flaws"  
I think I like you more now.  
oh  
i just got your letter. it was in my mail  
Good. I meant every word.

When she doesn't reply, Ben tries to remember exactly how long the letter was, wondering how long it'll take her to read it. Maybe she won't read it right away. Maybe she'll have dinner first, or maybe she needs to rush off for another class, though that's unlikely since he's sure they're in the same time zone and she doesn't have any classes past 6 PM.

A few minutes later she still hasn't responded, and Ben decides he'll make himself crazy if he sits there and watches his phone, waiting for a text. He shoves the phone into his pocket and heads out into the apartment—maybe by the time he orders dinner and picks a movie, his heart will stop fluttering with anxiety.

* * *

Rey drops to her bed, eyes still watering as she scans over the creamy paper and almost artistic handwriting. It's in cursive, written so painstakingly it looks almost as though it was printed out by an expensive printer with a fancy font. The words are even more beautiful. They're the best Valentine's present she's ever received—not that she's really ever received any.

> February 6th, 2019
> 
> Kira,
> 
> Please never apologize to me for the paper or handwriting in your letter. I wouldn't care if you sent me a pile of those gaudy neon sticky notes with things scribbled across them in crayon. Just receiving a letter from you is very much appreciated.
> 
> Please never say I should have gotten a different soulmate. You are exactly the person you should be, and exactly the person I want to be matched with.
> 
> I understand your fears. All those "what if's". I think there's something you haven't realized, though. You're only considering half the picture. What if I think you're incredible? What if I love your voice? What if we agree on the important things, or find a way to compromise on them? What if you end up being the most interesting person I know? What if I'd love to cook for you? What if I don't care about all those "awful" things, or find them endearing? What if I fall in love with you? I think any of those things are much more likely to happen than all your "what if's". I'm not perfect either. Someday you might need to get used to someone who spent three hours reorganizing his spice drawer last week, and someone who would spend a weekend at home rather than socializing.
> 
> I correct grammar in other people's emails, I have my books cataloged, and I judge people for watching too many superhero movies. The last time someone at the grocery store tried talking to me I couldn't figure out how to end the conversation, so I told them I had a family emergency, abandoned my cart, and went to another store. I haven't been back to that first store since.
> 
> Please believe it when I say I don't think it's possible that I won't like you.
> 
> You shared some (odd) facts about yourself, so I'll do the same:
> 
> The closest I get to liking sweets is baking chocolate. I could _possibly_ make an exception for 85% dark chocolate.
> 
> I have never seen Titanic. (Is that something I should rectify?)
> 
> I still don't know if it's pronounced gif or jif, and I feel like an idiot because of it.
> 
> I have a favorite sweater, but I wish it smelled like you.
> 
> We're on your schedule. Don't feel rushed, and please don't let your fears get to you.
> 
> I like you. I _care_ about you. I'm not going anywhere.
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Kylo

The breath she takes in is slow and shaky. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be friendly. Someone she wouldn't mind getting lunch with or seeing a movie with. He wasn't supposed to be able to make her tear up with a few words. He wasn't supposed to know what she wanted to hear from another person.

_I'm not going anywhere._

Rey closes her eyes, wiping at them, and tries not to think of the letter while she changes out of what she wore to class. As she told Kylo, her plans for the night are lazy ones, so she swaps into her pajamas and ties a thick fluffy blue robe around her in hopes that she'll stop shivering. She double checks that the necklace, the one she treasures more than she'd like to admit, is tucked under her sweater, near her heart.

Her eyes are still damp when she takes one more look at the letter and sniffles, smiling at it before she folds it up and leaves it on her desk.

Ben stops short in the hallway, trying not to run into her. It's been weeks since their awkward interaction outside the building, and he's still not sure what to make of him. He's not told anyone she stole the library book, but they've made a point to avoid each other. It's not a truce, but more like them both needing physical distance to keep their minds clear. She still hasn't forgotten the way he looked at her.

The way he looks at her now, in the hall, is different. His brows pull together, and he stares down at her for a moment. "Are you okay? Were you crying?"

"It's nothing, just something nice. It's also none of your business."

Ben rolls his eyes. There's a beat of silence during which she tries not to look at his mouth again before she comes to her senses and clears her throat, then turns and starts walking out toward the kitchen.

His voice comes from behind her as he follows. "No plans tonight?"

"Big plans. Big, very romantic plans," she laughs, opening one of their cabinets. Naturally, she finds that what she's looking for is missing, and everything has been reorganized. Again. Her jaw tightens. "Ben, where's my cereal?"

"That junk's full of sugar."

"Why do you think I like it?" she snaps, scowling at where he's leaning against the counter, watching her with a hint of a smirk. "Seriously, where is it?"

His head tilts. "If you're having breakfast for dinner, there's oatmeal. Oatmeal has protein, and—"

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"That _thing,"_ she groans. "That thing where you act like you know what's best for me. You're leaning into the Alpha thing and it's not a flattering look."

Ben snorts and folds his arms over his chest. "Oatmeal is, without a doubt, better for you than that cereal."

"You're being an ass," Rey argues. When he doesn't respond except to shrug, she lets out a frustrated huff and opens a few other cabinets, searching for the boxes of sugary cereal with marshmallows. Annoyingly, she finds them on the top shelf. She glowers over at her asshole roommate, who is biting back a grin. "Ben. Stop being a dick and get my cereal. You _know_ I can't reach it there."

He sighs. "You aren't even going to put milk in it, are you?"

"If you know the answer, why ask? Either get the cereal for me or I start climbing the counter. Your choice, but if I climb up there and fall, that's on you."

 _That_ should get his attention. It's frustrating as hell how protective he is, mostly because he also doesn't seem to like her, so his protectiveness comes out in the most purposely annoying ways, like reorganizing their cabinets in a way that puts her unhealthy snacks out of reach. A week ago, after another snow storm, she suddenly couldn't find any of her flats or sneakers—he hid them away on the top shelf of their entry closet, and when she asked, he claimed they didn't have enough traction on the ice and snow.

He's a _menace._

"Ben," she repeats. "Either get my cereal down, or I climb the counter to get it. You have one minute to decide."

His mouth curls into a frown. "I'll make you a deal. I'm ordering in, let me add something to the order for you. I can get the cereal if you insist, but wouldn't a freshly cooked dinner be better?" He pauses. "What are your plans for the night?"

It's not a terrible idea. She hates that it's not a terrible idea.

"I was thinking I'd commandeer the tv for a movie," Rey says. "I might grade some homework. Poe and Finn are out on their own for the night so it's just me." She thinks about it for a moment, and sighs. "Fine, I'll add my dinner to your order but you don't get any say in what I eat. _And_ you put my cereal back where I can reach it. This overstepping sucks, okay?"

Ben grins, knowing he's got his way, but she lets it go. For now.

She opens the drawer she thinks contains a bunch of menus for local takeout places, but it's just another well-organized drawer of kitchen gadgets. She tries another. _Silverware_. It's unbelievable—she's lived here for long enough to know the layout of this stupid kitchen, but it's like he reorganizes whenever he gets bored.

"Check the folder pinned to the inside of the upper right cabinet, next the fridge."

Rey raises an eyebrow at him, holding off on her instinctive eye-roll when she sees that he's watching her, looking amused by her plight. With a sigh, she opens the cabinet and finds a folder attached to the inside of the door filled with all the menus, sorted into categories and labeled _pizza, Asian, Italian, American,_ etc. He's used a damn label-maker.

"You're kidding."

"The drawer was getting messy."

"Ben, this is ridiculous."

"It's efficient," he argues, though there's no heat in his words. "Now they're organized into categories, then by alphabet. Even you shouldn't have trouble with it."

Rey shoots him a look, and he at least has the sense to seem apologetic.

He's quiet for a minute before suggesting, "May I join you? For the movie? Our plans for the night seem to line up. I don't know what movie you had in mind, but…" he hesitates. "Wait. It's Valentine's. You don't have plans with your soulmate?"

"Bold of you to assume we've met," she mutters, scanning through the food options. "How does Italian sound? I'm also open to Chinese or Thai. Maybe sushi?"

"I was planning on ordering one of Maz's vegetable lasagnas, so Italian's perfect."

Rey nods, grabbing the menu for Maz's, and then notices him studying her. "What?"

"You really haven't met?"

"Hm? Oh. No. We haven't. You haven't either, I'm guessing? Or is yours just busy tonight?"

He shakes his head. "We haven't, either. I don't think she's busy tonight, but we're not there yet. It's still new. Too new for big romantic Valentine's plans."

"I know what you mean. Want to go full-sad Valentine's and split a bottle of wine over a rom-com? Might help with the awkward roommate bonding. Carbs, wine, movie… round it out with ice cream and it's a regular girl's night in."

Ben stares at her blankly, then lets out a low chuckle. It's not something she's seen from him. She's barely seen him smile, let alone genuinely laugh.

It's a good look. She glances away quickly, and focuses in on Maz's menu. "Uh, you pick the movie, I'll place the order? Maybe add in some bread sticks?"

"Sure. Mind adding minestrone soup?"

"Are you sure it's healthy enough?" she mutters, a little of her residual bitterness slipping out.

It's frustrating, how handsome he is when he grins.

* * *

Food is spread out over his coffee table, and in the interest of maintaining whatever temporary peace has settled between them, he doesn't comment on how Rey set hot containers directly on the hardwood of the table. When he notices the container of minestrone has a tiny leak and is dripping onto the surface, he twitches. But Rey's right there with napkins, rolling her eyes at him when she realizes he's displeased.

"You understand your scent changes when you're panicking, right?" she asks dryly.

Ben ignores her and grabs the soup, uncapping it and shoving a spoonful in his mouth in lieu of responding. When he can still feel her eyes on him, he sighs. "Yes, I know that, but you commenting on it isn't very polite. Would you like _me_ to comment on how your scent changes in various situations? Like two days ago, when I was making breakfast without a shirt on and—"

He's interrupted by her coughing into her wine. "Point taken. Obviously our living situation isn't ideal."

"Obviously." The word comes out with more of a sarcastic bite than he intended. Ben schools his expression back to something kinder. "Sorry. Speaking of our living situation, I _may_ have grabbed a roommate packet from the housing office."

Rey looks over at him tiredly, her mouth full of spaghetti. It's clear she's unimpressed, but gestures for him to continue. He grabs the packet from the little stand next to him and puts the soup down, turning on the couch to face her. Maybe it's overkill, but they're stuck in this apartment until at least early May. Anything they can do to make it easier is worth the effort.

"Do you mind if we run through the questions in order?"

She shrugs. Ben takes it as a sign to continue, and clears his throat, reading off the first question, "What time do you and your roommate agree should be 'lights out'? What time do you and your roommate agree is an appropriate time to wake up?"

The question strikes him as odd until Rey snorts. "You realize this packet was intended for undergrads sharing a dorm room, right?"

"Oh."

"Let me guess, it also has questions about overnight guests?"

"It does. Yes."

"And about keeping the room clean, and study habits?"

Ben's frown deepens. With a sigh, he glances up at her. "Okay, I'm getting the impression this may not be helpful."

She snorts again, and it turns into a sort of laugh that grows until she's full-on giggling into her wine glass. "Look, the biggest issue is the designation thing. Right? So let's just figure out how we're going to handle that."

 _Handle that._ She says it as though he hasn't walked by her bedroom door and known in an instant what she was doing in the privacy of her own bed. She says it as though just _that_ didn't almost trigger his rut. She says it as though she hasn't realized how perfect they smell to each other, but he knows she has.

Ben cringes at the twinge of guilt that goes through him when he admits that to himself. There's only one person who should be that much of a match for him, and he's never even met her.

Rey's right. She has to be. They'll handle it. They aren't the first Alpha and Omega to ever live together and not…

An unwelcome—or maybe welcome, if he's being honest with himself—image of her under him comes to mind, and Ben flushes, grabbing for his wine glass. She's ordered them both a white and a red, but opened the white first. He winces at the sweetness of it. When he's collected himself, he looks over at Rey and sees that her cheeks have turned a flattering shade of pink. Of course she knows what he was thinking. He may as well be hooked up to a damn lie detector.

Rey coughs. "I'll just get to the point. I'm a month off my next heat. We should figure out how we're going to handle that. If I need to stay in a hotel, I need to book a room now."

"No, no, that's expensive, especially around here," he interrupts. "You shouldn't need to do that. Are you… do you usually have someone…" Ben shuts his mouth, his throat bobbing. "Is this too personal to talk about?"

"Maybe? I still think we need to determine this now, and not in a month. If you're asking if I normally have _help,_ then no. I don't."

"Isn't that painful?" He tries to keep the Alpha-y protective vibe out of his voice. "Can't it even be a little dangerous?"

"Well it's not a picnic," she mutters. She sips her wine and admits, "Yeah, I know it's not a good idea, but I've always managed it that way. I don't mind figuring out somewhere else to stay, but normally I close myself in my room for a few days."

Ben's jaw works. "Isn't your soulmate an Alpha? Does he know how you handle your heats?"

"I'm not even ready to meet him. I'm hardly going to call him up and invite him over for _that._ That's kind of an intense first date, don't you think?"

"I don't know," he huffs. "I bet he'd thank me for suggesting it."

He knows he's made a mistake when Rey glowers at him. "I think he'd agree that getting to know each other first is much more important. He may be an Alpha, but he's not an ass."

The words come out without his permission, murmured under his breath. "He got matched to you, didn't he?" Rey stares him down until he cringes. "Sorry, that was rude."

Rey shakes her head, but admits with a sigh, "It _would_ be the easy solution, but I'm not ready. I don't know if I'll ever be ready. The whole idea of spending a heat with an Alpha is a lot, adding in the soulmate angle is even _more_ intimidating." Her hazel eyes flick up to his, and she flushes with embarrassment. "Let's just watch the movie." She gestures toward the tv, and clicks on the first thing in his queue.

 _Titanic,_ oddly enough.

Part of him wants to reassure her somehow. He's torn between wanting to reassure her that her soulmate would understand her hesitation but also probably be patient… and wanting to tell her that _he_ should help her, and that _he_ would be patient.

There's a good chance he should sleep in Rose and Hux's guest room while Rey's dealing with heat.

He decides to not say any of that. Instead, he goes for more of an olive branch approach.

"There's nothing wrong with not being ready," Ben says carefully. "Whether that's not being ready to meet, not being ready to spend your heat with him, any of it. There's nothing wrong with that. My own soulmate is nervous about it, so if it's not weird, I'll tell you what I've been trying to tell her."

Rey looks surprised, but he continues, "It's important to do this in your own time. Anyone who makes you feel like you should be rushing it is an asshole. That being said, don't put off meeting him just because you're intimidated or afraid. You have no reason to be."

She doesn't respond right away, except to stare at him blankly. Not that he can blame her. This might be their first interaction that can be considered kind.

"Um. Thanks, Ben." She clears her throat. "I'm going to go get a blanket or something. It's freezing in here."

He digs into his lasagna while she's out of the room, presumably in her room grabbing something to bundle up in, though Ben's sure that was just an excuse to end their conversation. While she's out of the room, his mind wanders, landing on his own soulmate and her fears. He has a need to convince her she has nothing to be afraid of, but doing so without coming off as desperate seems impossible.

He shoves a forkful of lasagna in his mouth and turns it over in his mind, then types out a message.

I meant everything I said in my letter.  
We're on your timetable. I promise.  
I never want you to feel rushed into any of this.  
sorry i haven't responded  
i read your letter  
i don't know what to say In a good way or bad way?  
good  
very good  
i don't know how to thank you  
Don't. Just keep talking to me.  
i will  
i'm not going anywhere  
Neither am I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	5. Chapter 5

would you rather be able to talk to underwater animals or animals on land?  
Neither. I don't need more things trying to talk to me.  
really, be more of an introvert  
also that's not an option You know I'm an introvert.  
Underwater, if I'm forced to pick, but I would avoid bodies of water.  
okay fine, we'll try a different one  
would you rather always have a rock in your shoe or always hear a faint ringing? Easy. The rock. I'd just shake it out.  
no, that's not  
like it's ALWAYS in your shoe  
Then I shake it out?  
you can't  
it's literally always in your shoe  
you're not great at this game Maybe you're bad at asking questions. Let me try.  
Would you rather never meet another human again, or never remember someone after meeting them?  
i just audibly sighed  
this game is supposed to be fun and that question is tragic  
you know, you might actually like the end of titanic Actually, I forgot to tell you I watched it a couple weeks ago.  
The ending was awful.  
IT IS, thank you  
i ended up watching it over Valentine's  
i don't know why people like the ending

Ben's eyes bore into his phone as he rereads her latest messages. It _must_ be a coincidence.

The way his head's spinning is forgotten the moment he hears a throat clear. He's found a perfect place in the stacks to text Kira, and while Snoke never comes up to the stacks, his heart still stutters at the sound. He turns, ready with an excuse, but sighs in relief when he sees Rose bundled in a heavy turtleneck sweater, her arms crossed over her chest.

She raises an eyebrow at the phone in his hand. "Busy re-shelving?"

"Something like that," he answers sheepishly, knowing he's been caught.

"You know, when you received your results, I had no idea you'd get all cutesy," she teases, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. "I can't wait to meet her and tell her how often I catch you blushing at your phone."

"As soon as I meet her, I'll introduce you. Just be aware, I think she's about as friendly with strangers as I am."

Rose groans. "Of course you got matched to a grump."

"She isn't a grump!"

"Well, if she's anything like you—"

Someone shushes them, making them both fall silent. After a moment, Rose taps her foot and whispers, "Not to change the subject, but you and your roommate are cool now, right?"

Unease settles into him at the reminder of Rey.

Not that he doesn't want her to be his soulmate. Asking himself whether or not he wants it to be true is a bridge he hasn't crossed in the last minute, but the odds of it—the odds of being assigned to live with her, the odds of even living in the same city as her—are so slim it's hard to believe it might be true regardless of the odd coincidence.

Ben shakes the thought from his mind. There's a good chance he's stunned by the possibility, even if he's convinced it's just a weird fluke.

"Sure," he shrugs. "We hung out a few weeks ago. I don't see her that often since she's busy with classes and being a TA, but sure, we talk."

They avoid each other a little—not because they don't get along. Awkwardly, Ben steers clear of her because they _could_ get along. Probably very well, too well for the casual flings some people have before they settle down with their soulmate.

Unless, of course, they are soulmates.

Ben shoves that thought down. It's silly. Ridiculous, even.

Rose shifts her weight from side to side, and he frowns. "What? What is it?"

"It's just…" she pauses, and the discomfort is written all over her face. "Could you talk to her? She's in one of the study rooms on the second floor. I'm surprised she's here."

His first thought is maybe someone _else_ caught her stealing a book, and maybe she's been banned from the library, but Rey would have mentioned that. It takes a minute, and another cringe from Rose for him to piece things together. That's when it hits him—why he's been tense since waking up this morning. Why his skin's felt tight and hot and itchy.

"Oh."

"Yeah," Rose grumbles. "She'll set someone off if she stays here. How are you guys managing that? Do you need somewhere to stay for a few days?"

It's not a bad idea, but the thought of her spending a heat alone in the apartment makes him uncomfortable. What if there's a fire in the building or what if she somehow hurts herself and she's too overwhelmed with her heat to get help, or what if… Ben shakes his head. His mind is racing with all the things that could go wrong, and he already knows Rey would snap at him for it.

"I'll be fine. I picked up stronger blockers when she moved in, it shouldn't be a problem."

Rose gives him a disbelieving look, but doesn't comment. "Well, someone should tell her she might want to go home. It'll be a nightmare if we have an Omega in full-blown heat locking herself in a study room. I'd say something but I barely know her. Feels like overstepping, you know? I don't think she's fully into it, but I still think it might irritate her if some Alpha she doesn't know is around."

She says it like _he_ won't irritate Rey just because they live together. If anything, Ben's pretty sure he constantly irritates her.

Still, he sighs, "Yeah. I'll talk to her."

* * *

It's stupid, her being here. She _knows_ this, but after spending a weekend cooped up in her room waiting for the miserable three-to-four day hell to start, Rey couldn't handle another day of waiting. Sure, maybe she's caught up on grading and homework, and sure, her professors already know she'll be out for the week and the smart thing to do would be to curl up in bed with Netflix and wait, but it's too frustrating. She took precautions. Grabbing an oversized sweater that smells of Alpha to cover up her scent was the smartest one (she owes Ben an apology), and closing herself in one of the study rooms was another. Rey hoped she'd get a good day of studying in, but less than an hour into reading one of Professor Skywalker's recommended texts, she realized the room wasn't just hot and stuffy.

The scent enveloping her makes her dizzy, makes her skin tingle, makes the burning ache between her legs worsen. It's a sign that it's time to leave and hole herself up in her bedroom.

A knock on the study room door comes while she's putting her laptop away in her bag. It's not surprising. Someone was bound to notice her, eventually. When she slings the backpack over one shoulder and cracks the door open, she's forced to take a step back. She almost chokes on the waves of pheromones that come off him. It takes her a moment to catch her breath.

Ben stares at her, unblinking, and only blurts, "You shouldn't be here. You should leave."

"No shit," she snaps. "What does it look like I'm doing? I didn't expect it to start so soon." And then, because her skin is crawling and parts of her are sore and aching, she scowls, and says, "You have no right to tell me to leave."

"Maybe not," he nods, his jaw working. "But you can't be here. If you don't leave, I'll take you home myself."

She almost wants him to. Wants him to take her home, take her to bed, take her—

Ben gives her a pointed look. There's no doubt in her mind he knows there's slick trickling down her thighs, but at least he's polite enough not to comment. The way his dark eyes bore into her makes her bite back a whimper.

Clearing her throat, Rey tries to separate her heat-thoughts from her more sane ones. The logical part of her knows she needs to leave and was planning to anyway, but the overwhelming majority of her feels like she's just been challenged.

"No you won't," she argues. "You're not my Alpha, you don't get to—"

"So you keep reminding me," Ben interrupts, bracing a hand on the door frame. He stares down at her and works his mouth, then exhales. "Doesn't matter. I'm telling you as a friend, and as your roommate, you need to—" he stops mid-sentence. "Are you wearing my sweater? That, yeah, that's my sweater. Why are you wearing my sweater? No wonder it started earlier than you expected."

She doesn't have the time or patience for this. Trying not to pant or beg or do anything else that's foolish, Rey unzips the oversized black hoodie, leaving her sweating to death in an old t-shirt from a band she liked in high school. Then she makes the insane choice to try to hand it over to him. Ben recoils. "Are you kidding? That smells like Omega in heat."

"How terrible for you."

"I'm going to assume you're not thinking clearly, because you _know_ that will trigger my—"

Rey interrupts, blurting the words before she thinks them over, "You really think I put your sweater on so you'd have something to jerk off onto for half a week? I just thought your scent would help cover mine. Relax, I'll wash it."

Her eyes flutter closed when he gets closer. That's when she realizes it—she's much further into it than she thought. Something in her clenches painfully. A quiet whine leaves her mouth, and her chest tightens as her legs go wobbly.

"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay," he murmurs, no longer sounding annoyed. "I think my sweater made it worse. Will you let me help you get home?"

Home. It sounds so good. There are blankets at home. She hasn't even started on the nest.

It's a little humiliating. At least she thinks it _should_ be humiliating, but Ben's kind about it. He puts his sweater back around her and the scent of it is sinful, but soothing. He's right. It probably sped things up, but now she almost needs it, desperately, like it's a safety blanket. Rey tugs it further around herself, burying her face inside it.

Her voice comes out muffled. "Yes. Please. I need… we have blankets at home."

"We have blankets," he reassures her. "Lots of blankets. You can have as many as you need, okay? Come on, let's get you home."

Letting him help her home is the smart choice. She'll thank herself later when this is over, even if it's awkward to admit to needing his help. It might be 2019, but it's still not smart to walk around in public as an unmated Omega in heat, even if it's just beginning.

Ben's voice is so soft, so deep and comforting. He puts a hand on the back of his neck, and that's when she notices the blush across his cheeks. "I—uh. If we're going outside, it might be best if I scent you. My sweater isn't strong enough to cover the way you smell right now. You'll get the attention of any Alpha you walk past."

"You want to _what?"_ It's not a shocking request given the situation, but with the way her mind is flip flopping between instincts, Rey's torn between either storming off or suggesting they just lock themselves in the room.

His words come out restrained and thin. "Rey, this will be much easier if I scent you."

"Won't that make it worse?"

He shakes his head softly. "It should help. At least until we get you back to the apartment."

Rey narrows her eyes at him, trying not to shudder as she feels another involuntary clench and surge of slick, prepping her for a knot she won't be taking. She swallows. "And you aren't going to give me shit for this later?"

"No, of course not. Why is it so hard to believe I'm trying to help?" He huffs and adds, "Don't answer that, we don't have time. Would you just let me, please?"

"Fine, fine." She just wants to get home. Or maybe lock the study room door and strip? Heat really is a bitch.

Ben takes another step toward her and she's mortified when her knees go weak. He has to catch her around the waist. If he ends up needing to carry her home, Rey thinks she might find a nice cave to live in, because that might be the most embarrassing thing to happen to her.

His arm around her is strong and like a tether, grounding her, but he's hesitant. That much is obvious. He leans in a little closer, and Rey goes still. She's not sure what the protocol here is; she's never let an Alpha scent her. Tentatively, her hands press to his chest, broad and firm and _hot_ through his crisp button-up, and Rey blinks, thinking he's about to kiss her as he bends down. Ben is… _god_ her head spins the closer he gets. She moans when he ducks his head, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her breath catches. The moment his mouth finds her gland—swollen and desperate for a bite he's not stupid enough to leave—she pants against him, overwhelmed just by that, and his warmth, and the way his fingers press gently into her sides as he holds her.

His tongue drags over her gland, and she shudders, leaning into him.

It's over too quickly. Ben pulls back and grasps her upper arms, stopping her when she tries to chase his mouth. He holds her at a distance, his eyes wide and dark as he pants. "Fuck, you're so—" he breathes, and then he stops, shaking his head. "Uh. That should help, but we need to leave."

There's a warm, calming feeling spreading from the very spot his mouth touched, out. It's temporary, but she feels saner. Like she was starving and just had something to tide her over. But she knows the hunger will kick back in, so Rey takes a steadying breath and collects her thoughts, murmuring an embarrassed _thank you_ as she follows Ben out the door, and out of the library. He stays close and loops an arm right around her so they walk side by side.

The frigid air is a relief to her feverish body, and she considers taking his sweater off for the briefest moment before realizing the thought of letting it go is a horrid one. Instead, she tightens it around herself, scowling at the idea of not being wrapped in it.

Ben clears his throat while they speed-walk. "You mentioned blankets, but do you need anything else?"

It's a miracle she catches herself before she says something stupid, like _mind giving me your knot?_ They probably aren't there yet, as roommates.

He flushes red as though he can read her mind. "Any specific foods or anything?"

"Take my phone."

Ben frowns, glancing over at her as they walk. "What?"

"Take my phone," she repeats, digging a hand into her pocket to pull it out. It's regrettable, but she'll apologize to Kylo for her radio silence _after_ this passes. That's a better option than heat-texting him things she'll regret a lot more, like her name and address and desperate need for a knot ASAP. She turns the device off and hands it over to the confused man next to her. "Please? Give it back to me after."

"What if there's a family emergency or something and someone needs to reach you?"

She winces. "There won't be."

"Okay," he replies hesitantly, not seeming happy with her answer. "Look, I'm going to take a couple days from work, so if you need anything, you'll tell me, right?"

It's impossible to meet his eyes as she admits, "I'd appreciate if you _don't_ give me whatever I ask for, honestly."

The sound Ben makes is almost choking. "I didn't mean _that_."

"Still needed to be said," she blurts. There's no chance she'll blush more at this point, she shrugs and trudges on. Really, that's all she needs, to spend a heat with her roommate and have one of them do something monumentally stupid like _bite_. University Housing isn't equipped to deal with that sort of roommate conflict. "Odds are in a couple hours I'll be asking. I'm just saying I'd appreciate you ignoring those requests, assuming I make them."

He nods, but avoids meeting her eyes. It's awkward, especially since she's surrounded by both his scent and his arm, but they get to the apartment building without another word. Ben stops in front of the building and turns to her, gazing down at her as though he's not sure what to say.

Quietly, he tells her, "I'm going to call work and then pick up a few things from the pharmacy. Are you okay to get inside, lock the door, and stay there? I'll be less than an hour."

"Yeah, of course." She's not sure why they're speaking as softly as they are, but she continues, "You don't need to take time off work. I'm fine. I've done this before, back when I didn't have a roommate. It's not a big deal."

Ben's jaw tightens. "I might need a few days, anyway."

With her mind swimming in a haze of lust and desperation, it takes her a minute to figure out what he means. "Oh."

"I thought stronger blockers would be enough, but I don't think they will be."

She chews at her lip. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He gives her an uncomfortable half-smile. "It was bound to happen. I'm going to pick up some emergency blockers, so those might work. Maybe you should be in your room when I get home? Even if they work, it'll be easier if we're not around each other."

He says it as though she doesn't plan to lock herself in her own bedroom the moment she gets inside. She's even rigged a nice complicated little extra lock that will slow her down if she gets desperate and decides to do something stupid, like knock on his bedroom door and start begging.

Or she could start begging now.

"I need to get inside," she blurts. "The scenting's wearing off."

Ben nods—he can probably tell—and hesitates before inching closer. She finds herself leaning against his chest, gazing up at those deep brown eyes flecked with gold. She's seconds from just saying _to hell with it_ and asking him to join her.

He's staring down at her mouth, his eyes wide and filled with longing.

"Use my sweater," he whispers. "Please."

His expression alone is enough to make fresh slick run down the insides of her thighs.

Her words come out as soft as a breath. "I will."

* * *

Ben's never been more thankful for the pharmacy four blocks away. Sure, there's the occasional night when he's forgotten an ingredient for dinner and it's his first stop (primarily for the fact that it has self-check and nobody gives him a weird look for keeping earbuds in while he shops), but he's never needed the pharmacy part of it before.

Emergency blockers require an ID, and most places don't sell them. Dealing with rut is an option—it might even be unavoidable, but having it coincide with Rey's heat is a horrible idea. There's a tightness to his skin, and _everything_ is irritating, from the snow on the ground, to every single person walking past him on the street. Ben picks up his pace and takes out his phone.

Hey, I didn’t want to worry you, but I might not be available for a few days.   
Everything's fine. I’ll message as soon as possible.

It's quick. Terse, even, and he feels guilty for it, but at least she won't worry. Kira doesn't reply, and for a minute, Ben pushes down the urge to turn Rey's phone on and confirm the suspicion in the back of his mind. He doesn't. Instead, he calls Rose and starts speed-walking while he listens to the line ring.

She comes on in a hushed voice. "Hey, did you leave?"

"Had to. Needed to get Rey home," he explains, his response clipped. "I might need a few days."

Rose goes silent just as he gets to the pharmacy, and then asks, "Oh… are you… uh. Helping? There isn't a non-awkward way to ask that, is there?"

"No, no. I'm picking up emergency blockers," he admits, walking through the aisles in search of the little box that will hopefully help. "Not sure if they'll work, but I'm hoping they do."

"Oof, that could make things rough next rut, you know." Rose sighs. "Well, I guess it's lucky she set _you_ off and not some random student."

Ben's about to reply when he sees something among the shelves of knot-friendly condoms and slick-replicating lubricants. It's subtle packaging, and he's a _little_ surprised they'd sell such a thing in a pharmacy, but…

He clears his throat, saying in a way he hopes is casual, "Did you know they sell knotted sex toys at the Pharmacy on fourth?"

"They're helpful for Omega health, right? It makes sense."

His throat bobs. "It would be weird if I bought her one, right?"

"It's weirder that you aren't helping her through it," Rose points out, snorting.

"She asked me not to. She... has a soulmate. I assume that's why. He's an Alpha, so I think it's safe to assume he wouldn't be comfortable."

"I thought they hadn't met."

Ben flushes. He's told Rose more about Rey than he realized, and now a lot of little details are adding up at an alarming rate. "Um. No," he stammers, "No, they haven't."

"I'm confused." She scoffs. "It's adorable that you're all old-fashioned about it, but you understand people _do_ hook-up before meeting their soulmates, right? It's not like, an arranged marriage. I mean, are they together? Like, long distance?"

"I don't think they are. Together, I mean. But she said she didn't want help, so—" Someone coughs, and Ben turns to see a pharmacy employee blinking at him. He remembers he's standing in the middle of the Alpha-Omega health aisle, being less than subtle about his phone call. Mortified, Ben grabs the box of emergency blockers and tosses the knotted toy in his basket for the hell of it. "Maybe we should talk about this some other time, Rose. I'll text you later with an update, but for now I think I'm going to take a few sick days."

"Sounds like you should," she agrees. "Want me to tell Snoke?"

"I'll email him."

"Mm, smart move. Text if you need anything?"

"Yeah, I will. Thanks."

They say quick goodbyes and Ben dodges the annoyed employee, headed down another aisle to grab a few bottles of some hydrating sports drink, along with some juice, and a few cartons of cut fruit. He's not sure what Rey might need, but heat can be both dehydrating and exhausting, and with how dizzying everything is right now, the idea of providing even the smallest bit of help is a relief.

Check-out is an awkward ordeal since he's forced to show an ID for the blockers. It's probably not a common occurrence for the Beta cashier to see an Alpha buying both emergency blockers _and_ a knotted toy. Thankfully he's outside within minutes wearing a permanent blush, and he almost rips the box open to get to the two little pills he pops into his mouth. It won't be an instant fix, but with any luck they'll take start taking effect before he gets home and he won't want to rip through their apartment door to get to her. Ben takes a few deep breaths and starts walking home—slowly, now. It's tempting to walk around until the blockers fully take effect, but the part of him that wants to get home and make sure she's okay wins out.

The walk doesn't take long even though freezing rain has started, and with relief, Ben realizes the blockers are kicking in faster than expected. By the time he arrives in front of their apartment door the uncomfortable, tight-skin sensation and utter _need_ to be with her has dulled. It's not gone, but he feels calmer now. More in control.

Her scent is still strong, even outside their apartment door and even more so inside, but her door is closed, and the emergency blockers are dulling his reaction to it. Ben can breathe the air in their apartment without losing his mind and being forced to deal with a painful, raging erection, so the situation is _much_ better than expected. He silently thanks whichever politicians got emergency blockers for Alphas and Omegas labeled as something other than _prescription-only_ , and heads to the kitchen to put away what he's bought.

When he checks the fridge and cabinets, it becomes clear Rey's done a little to prep. Fruits are sliced up and stored in tupperware, and she's got a giant bag of trail mix along with nutrient-rich protein bars on one of their shelves. How she plans to consume any of it while closed in her room, Ben's not sure.

He's about to email work when he hears it. The whimpering.

It sends shivers down his spine. It makes him twitchy, makes him want to find her and wrap around her and insist she tell him what she needs. Ben grips the counter and takes another deep, calming breath. The fact that he can even do so means the blockers in his bloodstream are probably working overtime.

The knotted toy he bought—a questionable decision, even to his fuzzy mind—is on the counter, innocently sitting next to the sports drinks. Bringing it to her, along with any food or water, is a much _more_ questionable decision.

But then he hears another whimper, and what he thinks is crying, and the decision is an easy one. He grabs a few of the protein bars and one of the giant bottles of sports drink, along with the toy, and before heading to her room, he goes to his and takes the blanket off his bed. The implications of her being both set off and comforted by his own sweater are obvious and will need to be addressed, but for now there's no denying he can help, at least in a small way.

Ben pauses outside her door, his arms full, and knocks. He's almost afraid of what might happen when she opens it, but he can't bring himself to ignore the sounds he hears. It takes a minute, but the door opens.

It's an odd experience. The blockers make him feel almost disengaged. Like he can see her, can smell how incredible and sweet the pheromones coming from her are, can understand what's going on, but can't react as an Alpha would. She holds the door open with one hand, clutching his sweater to her chest with the other. With relief, Ben sees that she's wearing clothes—a loose blue t-shirt and sleep shorts. She's sweating through them.

Her wide eyes scan over him, like she's debating whether to drag him into the room.

"I uh… I brought you another blanket," he blurts, now unsure of how he should tell her about the knotting toy. "And some other things."

Maybe if he just leaves it all with her she'll notice the food first and he'll be out of the room before she sees _it._

Her eyes narrow in on the white box in his grip. "Did you buy me a—"

"I might have."

She blinks, but doesn't respond. It gives him time to take a closer look. There's sweat beading on her forehead, like she's sweating out a bad fever. Past her, he can see blankets, at least four or five, wrapped into an efficient nest. Part of him wants to kiss her, tell her she's done such a good job, made such a nice nest. He doesn't.

When she hasn't said anything for a tense minute, Ben clears his throat, and holds out everything he's brought, like some sort of offering. "I know you said you didn't want _help._ I thought this might be a more… suitable alternative."

"Right." She blinks again, shaking her head, and looks up at him. "Right. Sorry, I'm kind of out of it. It um. Hasn't fully started, so I've been napping." Her voice goes soft. "You brought me a blanket?"

"Food, too," he nods. "And water. I was worried you didn't have any. When's the last time you ate? Proper food," he clarifies, "Not sugary cereal. I can make you something."

When he glances at her, Rey looks like she's about to cry. After a moment, she does, curling in on the sweater that's pressed to her chest. Wracking sobs shake her shoulders, and Ben's left there staring, clueless as to what he's done to trigger such a reaction. When she doesn't stop, he lets instinct take over—whoever she is or isn't to him, it's too painful to see her upset. He drops everything he brought her and hugs her, nuzzling his face into the gland on her neck. It's undoubtedly overstepping, but it calms her in seconds, turning her sobs into quiet sniffling.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm—I'm really off right now. I'm never usually like this, but it's so much more intense than it's ever been, and it _hurts,_ and you're being really nice, and—"

He hushes her, soothing a hand between her shoulder blades while she buries into his chest. "Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong." Ben hesitates, and adds in a whisper, "You've been so good, sweetheart. Your nest looks perfect."

At his words, she relaxes in his arms. She stays there, her breathing returning to normal as she stops crying. Ben's struck by the sudden and intense feeling of rightness of it all—of Rey in his arms, of him comforting her, and making sure she has anything she needs. It's coupled with some guilt. He doesn't know for sure if his suspicion is correct. Hookups and flings pre-soulmate are one thing, but this pull is something else, and if she isn't Kira…

The thought swirls around in his mind, making him wince, but the feeling dissipates in an instant when he hears _it—_ the soft little rumbling sound against his chest. It makes his breath catch, and Ben blinks down at her. "Are you purring for me?"

Rey backs away, pulling out of his arms. Her cheeks flush. "Sorry. Um. Thank you. For… everything."

"Of course," he murmurs. "I'll be out there," he gestures out toward the living room, deciding he's not leaving the apartment until she's through this. "You'll tell me if you need anything? The emergency blockers are working, obviously, so… so if you need any food or water or anything, you'll ask? Anything you need, okay?"

Her bottom lip wobbles as she looks up at him. She wants him to stay. She doesn't need to say if for him to know, and it's more tempting than he thought it would be, but—but he promised. So he cups her face, whispers "Please tell me if you need anything," and leaves her room, closing the door behind him. Ben can't help but selfishly hope she'll follow him and asking him to come back.

After a few seconds, he hears her door lock.

* * *

Three movies later (all watched while trying not to pay attention to the soft sounds coming from her bedroom), Ben abandons his search for a fourth movie and fidgets with the phone in his hands. Rey's phone. The one he could turn on. The one that could confirm everything, if he texted Kira and then did or didn't see a notification pop up on Rey's screen.

It's an odd tug of war between the desperate need to know and the fear of finding out, one way or another. There's part of him that knows. Knows both Rey and Kira spent their Valentine's doing the same thing, knows there's mint chocolate chip ice cream and caramel sauce in the kitchen, knows Rey and Kira are both nervous about soulmates in similar ways, knows two people shouldn't be drawn to each other they way they are unless they're meant to be together.

But then there's the part of him that knows it's all circumstantial. There are billions of people in the world—surely more than one person likes that odd dessert combination and spent Valentine's watching a sad movie and is afraid to meet their soulmate.

Ben drops the phone on the coffee table and picks up her letter—the one he's been rereading while ignoring the movies.

_I seem to have a very kind soulmate and am too afraid to tell him my name, because what if he gets to know me and then the one person in the world who should care about me… doesn't?_

He takes in a slow breath, scanning over those words again, and comes to a decision.

He needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	6. Chapter 6

One of the biggest upsides to the building she lives in is the basement laundry room with both slots for quarters and a card swipe that links to her University ID. Previously her only option was a laundromat three blocks away, and that required either carrying laundry (a terrible option in the winter), or paying too much for an Uber. Walking down some stairs and paying a few dollars a load is a blessing.

Rey stuffs one washer with sheets soaked through with slick, and in the other washer, she puts anything Ben gave her—his sweater, the comforter, and (awkwardly), one of his button-up shirts that he took off and tossed in her direction while blushing during a lull on the third day of her heat, when she forgot he was home and wandered out of her bedroom naked and looking for more food. Naturally, the minute she got into her bedroom, she proceeded to rub herself all over said shirt. She cringes at the thought of it, and even more so at the thought that he not only gave her things that smelled of him, but he bought her the only thing that kept her sane through the miserable four day torture-fest. His knot would have felt much better than silicone, though.

Rey groans at the passing thought. She hoped that would go away with her heat, but that isn't the case.

With two swipes of her ID and the press of a few buttons, she starts up the washers, settling down on the floor in front of them with both a textbook and her phone. It's unnecessary to stick around watching her clothes wash since the machines lock during their wash cycle, but Ben's passed out on the couch and she's not convinced she's ready to face him. As far as she can tell, he stayed there the whole time like a guard between their front door and her bedroom. She's not sure how to feel about that.

He must have heard her saying his name. Unless the man went deaf or invested in heavy-duty noise-blocking headphones or earplugs, there's not a chance he missed it. She remembers sobbing it, remembers begging for him to help her. It's a miracle she stayed in her room for the worst of it, so she's far from ready to go back upstairs. A nice two hours of laundry will give her time to prepare, and time to apologize to Kylo for dropping off the map without warning.

Kylo. The other monkey-wrench in her life plans.

She groans again, burying her head in her hands. It's been a few days, the longest they've gone without texting, and she expects to see a dozen concerned messages from him as she starts up her phone, which she found sitting next to Ben's on the living room coffee table. She waits for it to turn on, trying to figure out what she'll say, how she'll explain.

There's only one set of messages from him, all from days earlier. Rey frowns. Kylo's been a daily-texting kind of guy so far.

**March 4th, 2019** 1:57 PM   
Hey, I didn’t want to worry you, but I might not be available for a few days.   
Everything's fine. I’ll message as soon as possible.   
**Today** 5:11 PM   
hey, how are you?

He doesn't respond right away which is also unusual for him, but he _did_ say he might not be available. Maybe he's traveling? But… the app works over the internet, so even if he traveled internationally it's not a matter of his phone not having international texting. His message is vague, but then again, it's not like she gave him any warning she'd be disappearing for days.

Instead of watching her phone, she turns to her textbook, planning on catching up on two chapter's worth of reading despite the fact that she's too tired to absorb any of it. It's dull—something on the history of Soul Bond, which is something most people learn early in public education, but she focuses in on it and absentmindedly plays with the tiny compass hanging from her neck. Halfway through the chapter, she's so engrossed she barely notices the knock on the door frame to the laundry room.

Rey's eyes flick over and up, and she blanches at the sight of her roommate, standing there watching her read. He looks edible in a dark gray t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair a mess from his nap on the couch. Ben says nothing. He only meets her eyes and waits as she takes in an unsteady breath. His expression is wholly unreadable, but whatever it is, it's intense.

And with just the briefest glance at him, just a single moment of being near him, Rey can't remember why she didn't let him help her through her heat. The pull to him is magnetic.

Finally, he murmurs, "I made you dinner, but then I realized you weren't in the apartment. I couldn't find you. I've been looking everywhere. Are you…" his throat bobs. "Are you okay? I was worried."

He shouldn't be. Shouldn't be worried, shouldn't even be looking at her the way he is, like she's someone he might care about. He shouldn't be the person who brought her blankets and left bowls of fruit and bottles of water outside her bedroom door, shouldn't be the person she thought of when she—

"I'm fine," she whispers. "Tired." It'll make her sore, craning her neck up at him from her seat on the floor, so Rey stands, glancing at the time left on the washers. Still a couple minutes to go, not that it's relevant at all to Ben or why he's in the room. She's just delaying their inevitable conversation.

Rey turns back to him, startling at how close he's gotten. He's not crowding her, but he's in her space—close enough to wrap her in a hug or kiss her.

"If you'd had help, you would have come out of it feeling rested," he says, not unkindly. His words are careful. Measured. "Come upstairs. I warmed up a quiche. Lots of protein. Veggies, too. I can take care of the laundry, but you should eat, and rest. You've been eating nothing but fruit and protein bars for days, Rey, and you look exhausted."

She tries not to be touched at how he made her food. It's sweet, and between that and his intoxicating scent and the existence of his soulmate, it's a recipe for disaster.

So she brushes him off. "Mm. _Exhausted._ Very flattering. Just what every woman wants to hear."

Ben's eyebrow quirks. "You would have been less irritable, too."

"I wasn't feeling irritated until you came in here," she mutters, but the words have no heat behind them. She wants to push him away, needs to, but… but his eyes are so soft as he looks down at her.

He steps closer, his hand landing at her hip. The movement presses her against one of the washers. His voice is quiet and maybe even amused when he asks, "Are we back to pretending I annoy you? We both know that's not true."

The washer behind her slows, still vibrating as it goes through its last spins. Ben cups her face, and her eyes flutter closed. "No, it's not," she admits.

His nose slides against hers. She can feel his breath on her skin when he whispers, "Can I?"

"Can you _what?"_

When he hums, Rey opens her eyes and sees his, drifting over her face like a caress. They land on her lips as he pulls back. "You know what I'm asking."

She does. She's just spent days thinking about it, and more. Ben's barely inches away, and the temptation to lean in is unlike anything she's ever felt. His eyes slide down, catching and widening at something. He hesitates, clears his throat, then trembles a little. "Can I kiss you? Please?"

She's too stunned by everything to reply, and after a minute he must get tired of her not answering, because his hand drops from her face and grasps her other hip. His fingers press into her on either side, tugging her close while he hovers over her, and Rey's just holding her breath while she waits to see what he'll do, and then…

It's like he snaps. Like he's made a decision. He lifts her in one swift move, sitting her on top of the machine that's finished her wash, and smooths his hands down her thighs. She's like putty in his hands.

The words are murmured against her shoulder. "Are you going to tell me to stop?" She doesn't reply—doesn't know how to, so he continues, "Why didn't you let me help? I know you wanted me to. Do you have any idea what it was like, hearing you beg for me, but knowing I wasn't supposed to help?"

Rey turns her head to his, nuzzling into the side of his face. It's overwhelming, the feeling of being so close to him, knowing she could move just a little and meet his mouth.

"Why?" he whispers. "Why didn't you let me?"

There are so many reasons she could give—she doesn't know what she wants, doesn't know what to think of being thrust into a world where she has a soulmate and simultaneously an intense connection with someone else. She could tell him she's terrified. She could tell him she knows firsthand the tragedy that comes with falling in love with someone who isn't your soulmate, because there's always a risk they'll abandon you and your unborn daughter and leave you to die of a broken heart while they make a new family with their perfect match.

She doesn't say any of it, doesn't tell him no, doesn't push him away. There's no logic to it, but what she does is less scary than telling him the truth. With a shaky breath, she tilts her head and presses her mouth to his. When she kisses him, Ben stills, and for a few seconds it seems like he's changed his mind. But then he melts. Just melts against her mouth, kissing her sweetly, so unlike the way anyone's ever kissed her. Both his hands come to hold her face, and the way he touches her, the way his fingers smooth over her cheeks and jaw, the way his lips caress hers so slowly, is reverent.

For the briefest, most terrifying moment, she wonders if Kylo would ever be able to kiss her like this. She wonders if _anyone_ could ever kiss her like this. For some reason, she doubts it.

His nose presses into her cheek, his lips working and sucking gently at hers, and… and it's possible that this kiss is better than anything she's ever felt. She loses herself in it, in the swirling feeling of rightness that swells in her chest when he smiles against her mouth. When he pulls away, leaving her with one more soft peck to her lips, Rey's breathless.

She watches his eyes open slowly. If possible, Ben seems as surprised as she is, but there's some other emotion in his gaze that she can't place. His mouth opens, and the smile that grows across his lips is toothy and beautiful, and Rey can't figure out what she's done to deserve it.

"Come upstairs," he breathes. This time it's more of a desperate request than a demand. "Let me get you dinner. Let me take care of you."

Every bit of her is begging her to say yes, but she can't bring herself to speak the word. "I don't know," she says instead.

Ben leans back, just enough to consider her. He tilts his head and his mouth works as he stares at her, boring into her with those soulful eyes. When he speaks again, it's with a huff, like he's just figured something out. "You're so afraid. What are you afraid of? I don't bite."

Why does it feel like he can see her thoughts when he stares at her? Nobody's ever made her feel so seen, like with just a handful of words, she's been stripped bare and put out on display.

"Or, is it him?" The way Ben asks isn't jealous, or demanding. He just sounds curious. "Did you decide to meet him?"

She shakes her head. If she feels any guilt concerning Kylo, it's because she's not convinced there will ever be anything more than friendship between them, and he seems to think the opposite. "I'm not sure I will," she admits. "I don't know yet. We're not together, like that. I don't know if we ever will be."

"You're afraid of him, too."

There's no point in answering—that wasn't a question.

After a minute, Ben gives her a soft nod. He leans in, surprising her with a gentle kiss to the side of her forehead, and then pulls away. It's not what she expected, but he gives her space, so she slides off the washer and pops it open, glad for an excuse not to address whatever's going on between them.

Something becomes glaringly clear when she starts pulling his comforter and borrowed clothing from the machine, only to still smell herself on them. Even from a few feet away, she can hear Ben whisper, "They still smell like you. A little like me, too."

"I'll wash them again," she sighs. "Or replace them, or—"

"Please don't." Rey turns her head back, raising an eyebrow. Ben only shrugs. "I don't mind. It's nice."

He gives her another lingering look—one she doesn't know how to interpret—and she watches him turn, confusion seeping into her more and more with every step away from her he takes. When he gets to the doorway, he stops for a moment with his back to her, and his hand on the door frame. His words are somehow both tender and brutal.

"You can't spend your whole life afraid, Rey."

And then he's gone, and she's left holding his things that smell like _her,_ wondering at the odd rush of warmth at the flawlessness that is their scents co-mingling.

* * *

Hours later, Ben takes comforting in knowing she ate half the quiche and a fruit salad he prepared her, and then fell asleep hours before she normally would. Once she's sleeping, he lays in his own bed—the one that now smells of her—and stares up at the ceiling. He touches his lips, hardly believing they kissed.

It's all true. Every little odd suspicion, every little coincidence. He didn't imagine any of it.

The urge to check her phone had been overwhelming, but Ben's beyond relieved he waited, because seeing the familiar tiny compass resting against her chest had hit him with a tidal wave of relief and pure joy a text never could have.

Rey is his soulmate. His _soulmate._

It's ridiculous and makes little sense and strange and _perfect_ because she drives him insane, infuriates him to no end, and all he ever wants to do is kiss her, especially now that he knows nobody will be hurt if he does.

His room has become some sort of odd, soothing haven now that it smells so strongly of her. There's a good chance the scent will eventually trigger a rut, but that's an issue for his future-self. Right now he has a bigger issue to deal with—he knows the identity of his soulmate, and now, he has two options: tell her, or let her find out in her own time. It's tempting to go knock on her bedroom door and wake her up and tell her. Unbelievably tempting, but there's part of him that isn't convinced it's the right thing to do. Telling her won't magically change how she feels about having a soulmate, and if anything, there's a good chance it'll freak her out. At least that's what he worries.

There are a million reasons he should and why he shouldn't tell her. After laying there for what must be an hour, Ben still hasn't decided, so the only temporary decision he comes to is… that he needs to think on it, because whatever he does needs to be done with good intentions, and not just because he wants her to know.

In the meantime, while his mind is still swirling with the reality where she's intended to be with _him,_ Ben climbs out of bed and grabs what he needs to write her a letter.

* * *

> March 7, 2019
> 
> Kira,
> 
> This letter might strike you as vague, or maybe confusing. At the moment, I have no explanation for that except to say that I've had a revelation—one that didn't surprise me as much as it should have, and one that relieved me more than I expected. I promise I'll explain someday. I don't mean to scare you, and I don't mean to rush you, nor do I mean to imply that I expect anything from you or our relationship, whatever it may be. Still, what I'm about to say needs to be said.
> 
> I could love you. I want to love you, someday, if you'll let me.
> 
> I want to be frustrated with how you mostly eat cereal, and I want to be annoyed when you ruin our laundry with gum, and I want you to laugh at me when I'm terrible at games you suggest. I want you to roll your eyes at how I organize things, and challenge me, and tell me when I'm being an asshole. I want to hug you when you've had a bad day, and make you dinner, and have you fall asleep on me while we put on a sappy movie. I want to be the person you can complain to, and the person you can talk to about everything you're afraid of.
> 
> Someday I hope you want all of that, too, but until you're ready, until you've gotten to a place where that's what you want, I want you to know I care about you, and I only want you to be happy. If you ever decide that I'm what makes you happy, I'll be right here.
> 
> Yours, always.

* * *

Rey's eyes flutter closed as she sighs, having reread the letter for the fourth time that Saturday afternoon. Kylo's right—she's both confused and hoping for an explanation for this touching, terrifying letter, which honestly reads as a declaration of love (or something like it) more than it reads as a letter between friends or pen pals. If his intentions weren't clear before, they're right in front of her now, in stark white paper and swirling, gorgeous cursive. She leans back against the kitchen counter, biting at her lip while she begins another reread, as if an explanation will suddenly appear between the paragraphs. It doesn't. Really, she shouldn't even be reading this again, she _should_ be preparing questions for Professor Skywalker's sister, a woman she'll be having lunch with in a few days. As nervous as Rey would normally be for such a thing, she can't even bring herself to worry about it—this letter has been consuming her thoughts for hours since she received it.

The letter was a hell of a thing to come home to after a long week back to classes, post-heat. It's odd timing, what with her recent run-in in the laundry room with Ben—somehow she's gone from a comfortably single existence to having a sweetheart of a soulmate declaring his intentions _and_ a roommate with soft lips and a compulsive need to take care of her.

She sighs again and takes out her phone.

i got your letter   
We don’t need to talk about it if you don't want to. I only want you to know how I feel. You don’t need to make any decisions of feel rushed. I just needed to say it.   
thank you. i'm not sure what to say.   
You don’t need to say anything.

Rey taps her fingers on the counter to her side. She wants to reply somehow, but she has no idea how to, so she shoves her phone back in her pocket. He'd never fault her for taking an hour or two to reply. She takes a deep breath and turns to open a cabinet, in search of a massive container of trail-mix she bought a few days ago that's more chocolate than anything else. Predictably,it's on the highest shelf, shoved to the back behind a small bag of dried fruit and some cups of unsweetened applesauce—snacks Ben's undoubtedly bought and deemed healthier than her usual. The worst part is, she can't even find it in herself to be mad at him for it.

For a moment, she hesitates, but she can't keep avoiding him just because they kissed. Slowly, she walks out of the kitchen and down the hall, then knocks on his bedroom door, ready to insist that he reach her snacks for her and stop moving them. When he opens it and sees her, his expression softens.

"Hey, Rey," he says gently. "Do you need something?" He pauses, checking the time on a silver wristwatch, and offers, "Do you want to split another takeout order, or something? Or uh, talk?"

There's something in the way he looks at her. Something confusing and sweet, but Rey doesn't know how to feel about any of it.

"I—no," she lies. "No, sorry. I don't need anything."

Ben frowns, leaning a shoulder into his door frame. "Okay. So... "

"Never mind," she blurts. "Sorry, I shouldn't have… uh. I'll just…"

Her words trail off while her cheeks burn, and she turns, rushing away from him as subtly as she can. And for a moment, she thinks he'll just go back into his room and shut the door, chalking it up to her being a little odd. He doesn't. He follows right behind her, catching her hand and pulling her back to him until she's in his arms, looking up at him with wide, surprised eyes. He holds her in the middle of their hallway, one arm around her, and the other holding her face, and for a minute they only stare at each other. Ben works his jaw, waiting for her to say something, and when she doesn't, he leans down.

His mouth meets hers, soft and tentative, like he's assuming she's about to stop him and yell at him for kissing her again, as if this hasn't been the terrifying thing at the very top of her to-do list almost since they met. When she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the movement of his mouth against hers stutters, but then he kisses her more firmly. His jaw works, his mouth soft as his lips slide over hers again and again. The way he holds her is so tender, so safe, and she can't help but wonder if _this_ is what she's so afraid of. How could this—this gentleness, this sweetness, this utter warmth—be terrifying?

But then the kiss ends, and Rey realizes none of that is the scary part. The scary part is the way he looks at her after—all wide, hopeful eyes and stunning smile. It's the hope that gets to her.

Rey takes in a shaky breath and clears her throat. "Uh. Sorry. I uh. I shouldn't have… I—"

She has no excuse. No good reason to run away from him, no good reason to be so afraid, and judging by the sad smile he gives her, Ben knows it. He bends down to kiss her cheek, just a brush of his mouth against her skin.

"I know," he says softly. "It's okay."

Somehow, that makes it much harder to walk away.

* * *

The library used to be his favorite place. He used to find comfort there, among the books that expected nothing from him and only offered an escape from everything else. As an undergrad, and even through his master's program, Ben would be in the library more often than wherever he lived—tucked into a corner or spread out in a private study room, anywhere he could be alone. Even after starting work there it was great. People warned him not to make the thing he loved into his job, warning that it would make him fall out of love with it or become disillusioned, but his first few months, before Snoke took notice of him, were perfect.

Now when he glances around, he doesn't see a place to escape to—it's a place to escape _from._ It's possible people would be thrilled to have a boss that encourages growth, but Snoke is the sort of boss who picks a favorite employee and thrusts them into the fast-lane regardless of their wants, and often at the expense of every other employee.

Ben grimaces as he re-shelves, his mind running over his recent check-in with the man. If he accepts the unwanted promotion that's undoubtedly coming, he'll be stuck, and...

It shouldn't be possible for one Alpha to sneak up on another, especially given how sensitive he seems to be to scents lately—living with Rey, _kissing_ Rey, and sleeping while surrounded by her scent, is wreaking havoc on his senses. And yet when the woman behind him speaks, he almost jumps out of his skin.

"You know, if you came to work at RebelCorp you'd have a PA to handle things like this." His mother walks around him, tilting her head at the cart stacked high with books he still needs to organize and put away. She looks as professional as ever, not that he'd expect anything less. The smile she gives him is kind, but sympathetic. "Benny, is this really what you want to do with your life? Whenever you're ready, there's an office right next to mine—corner views. It's stunning. You should at least see it before you turn it down."

The look he shoots her is withering. "Did I say yes the first dozen times?"

"No." She sighs, and cracks the familiar smile he knows will be followed up with blunt words. "But I wish I understood. You never seem happy with this job when we talk, and _good lord_ when I asked your uncle if he visits you here, he droned on for an hour about how he avoids this place because the man who oversees it is a walking nightmare. Your boss? The one you complain about?"

Ben's eyes widen. "You know I'm trying not to get fired, right?" He lowers his voice after glancing around and admits, "He's not the easiest to work for, no, but could you please refrain from bringing that up or offering me a different job while I'm working?"

"Fine, fine," she waves. "You know how I am. I see you unhappy and I worry, and I see a problem I can fix if you'd only let me."

"I don't want you to fix my problems," he mutters.

His mother shrugs under her suit jacket. "Maybe not. But I won't stop worrying."

He tries not to sigh and leans down to hug her instead. His voice is only a _little_ grumpy when he finally says, "Hi, mom."

She laughs. "Hi."

"So why are you here? I assume it's not to offer me a job."

"Lunch," she grins. "It was _supposed_ to be with your uncle and one of his grad students, but he's not feeling well, so I'm meeting her on my own." She pauses, and asks, "You wouldn't want to join us, would you?"

"I'm working."

"You could always quit, come to lunch, and then come work for me."

" _Mom."_

She holds up her hands. "Had to give it another shot. It's a shame you can't come with me, though. It should be an interesting lunch. She has questions about unusual soulmate pairings, I believe."

Ah. _That's_ what she's come here to discuss.

Ben goes quiet, his lips pursed as he waits for his mother to stop beating around the bush. It takes her a minute, but then she sighs and rolls her eyes. "I know I _said_ I wouldn't pester, but you haven't called. Did she get the necklace? Have you met her? Can I start wedding planning or at least know the name of my son's soulmate?"

He's not sure how to answer that, but his mouth curls into a smile. "We haven't officially met. She doesn't know who I am."

His mother narrows her eyes. "But you know who she is."

It's not phrased as a question, so he doesn't answer, and only says softly, "She loves the necklace. Wears it every day." He folds his arms over his chest, glancing down at the floor, and says, "She's nervous to meet me. It's only been a couple of months, and I think she's scared."

"Well… that's normal," she says, doing an oddly good job of impersonating Rose as she tries to comfort him. "It's a big adjustment."

"I know."

"So you figured out who she is, but she hasn't figured it out yet?" Her expression grows curious. "Am I understanding that right? Is she the Omega whose scent you're covered in?"

Ben coughs, probably flushing red. He's slept every night under a comforter Rey bundled herself in during heat. No amount of detergent would help that, at least not without a few washes. "Well, I have a roommate," he says quickly. "She's. Well. She's an Omega. Obviously." Quietly, he admits, "Her name is Rey. She doesn't know yet, and I don't want to rush her."

And then he sees them—the gears turning in his mother's head. The subtle knowing grin her lips curve into. After a moment, she laughs softly. "What a happy coincidence."

* * *

One of her favorite parts of Spring Break isn't the lack of students on campus, but the lack of business at one of the popular restaurants on campus—Maz's. It's not a fancy restaurant, nor an expensive one, which is probably why it's always so packed. Today that's not the case. She sits, thrumming with unnecessary nervousness, at one of the little round tables waiting for Professor Skywalker and his sister to show up. As usual, Professor Skywalker is running late. She tugs at the edge of one of her button-up flannel long-sleeve—it's far from fancy, but wonderfully warm, and it smells like _him_ because she left it hanging off the coat rack next to his jacket. The scent is a confusing one. It makes her feel better, makes her feel cared for, and makes her feel _so_ guilty.

Rey lets her eyes close so she can take in a deep breath of it. The guilt spikes at her chest, but her nerves settle. It's a little disconcerting, how effective it is.

"You wouldn't happen to be Rey, would you?"

The kind voice startles her, and she flushes at being caught randomly sniffing her own sweater. "Yes—yes, sorry," she says in a fluster, turning to the source of the voice.

The woman smiles, and slides into the seat across from Rey. "I'm Luke's sister," she explains, grinning and tugging off her coat, which she hangs off the back of her seat. There's not an incredible amount of family resemblance, but they share a similar mischievous smile. "You can call me Leia. I'm sorry, but my brother had to cancel on us. He's a little under the weather."

Warm brown eyes put her at ease. Leia's braided hair winds around her head in a crown, and she takes a moment to tuck a few stray hairs that have come loose back behind her ears, then takes a breath and sighs, smiling again while waiting for Rey to reply.

"That's fine," Rey blurts, confused for a moment by why this woman seems so familiar. She can't put her finger on it. "I hope he's not too ill, but I'm glad you were still able to join me."

Leia laughs. "I never pass up a chance to come to Maz's. My brother mentioned you're interested in hearing more about unusual soulmate pairs?"

Jumping right in. Rey nods, wishing she'd thought to prepare questions, though this _is_ more of an informational lunch than an actual interview. "I'm one of Professor Skywalker's grad students, and I'm getting to the point in my degree where I need to start worrying about my thesis. I'm interested in focusing on the more unusual pairs… mostly I'm interested in the pairs that have, for whatever reason, been platonic."

The woman sitting across from her tilts her head, studying her. The gesture is so oddly familiar that it makes Rey blink. "What a lovely necklace." She pauses, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "Was it a present, or…"

Rey puts a hand to the compass at her chest, smiling down at it. Normally it'd be under her shirt, close to her skin, but today she's worn it out. "Actually, it was a gift from my soulmate. Thank you. It's a bit sappy, but I thought it was sweet."

Leia hums. "Have you met him?"

It's maybe a little odd that Leia automatically assumes her soulmate is a man, maybe a little old fashioned, but Rey ignores it. "No, not yet. We're getting to know each other from a distance."

"A distance," Leia echoes, her tone a little dry. "Of course." A soft smile plays across her face, and she nods. "Well, it's a lovely necklace, but you had questions about platonic soulmates? I'm happy to answer—my soulmate and I are platonic _and_ an Alpha-Omega pairing, so I'm sure we're an unusual enough match for you to consider."

Rey just stares at her for a moment. It's like the oddest, most unexpected confirmation. "You're an Alpha-Omega pair? And not together? So that really happens? I'm sorry, I've just never met anyone in that situation in real life."

The woman's lips purse. She snorts, as if she's in on some big secret, and then leans closer. "Rey. He's my _brother."_

Suddenly things make more sense. Luke's odd take on soulmates, the subtle but present scent of Alpha from the commanding woman across from her…

Leia grins as Rey huffs. "I suppose that's a good reason to be platonic."

"Mm. You think?" Leia laughs again.

Just as Rey's about to say something, a waitress comes by with apologies for the delay and two menus, taking their drink orders before she leaves again.

Leia clears her throat. "I'm sure you're curious, so I'll get the obvious questions out of the way. Luke and I were raised separately—we were adopted by different families after some… let's call it family drama and leave it at that. We didn't meet until we were in our late teens. We ended up at the same college and there was… well, I don't know how to describe it. A pull, maybe? I don't mean romantically, it was never that for me, but I felt, right from the beginning, like I could tell him anything. Like I almost didn't _need_ to tell him things. We were always on the same page."

She quiets when the waitress drops off Rey's tea and her white wine, and they take a moment to place food orders before Rey leans in again to listen.

"Luke's described it the same way," she adds. "From the moment we met, he was my best friend. There was a time—not long, perhaps a month or two—when I began to date the man I'm now married to, that we didn't talk. I think he was afraid Han would be uncomfortable with our closeness, and that time, while brief, was painful."

"Oh wow," Rey murmurs. "I didn't realize it would be. So, you married a Beta?"

Leia smiles softly. "Han. We didn't have the best start; he was a little rough around the edges. Still is, but we're very happy together. We have a son, and the three of us—me, Luke, and Han, have been able to manage the situation well. It's gotten easier with time. My brother knows he'll always be very special to me… he'll always be my soulmate. My best friend. It's love, but it's not the same as what I have with Han. It's not passion. Does that make sense?"

It makes a concerning amount of sense. Rey's sure Leia can see the odd expression on her face.

Leia's eyebrow quirks. "You mentioned you have a soulmate? The one who gave you that necklace?" When she nods, Leia hums. She leans closer, and asks, her voice conspiratorial, "You know what I mean, don't you? About feeling things for someone else?"

She isn't sure what makes her say it, what it is about Leia that makes her comfortable enough to blurt, "It's driving me crazy. He seems so nice, but then there's my roommate, and—"

That's when she shuts up. Her cheeks burn at what she was just about to admit.

Weirdly, Leia's grin has only widened. "Am I right in guessing your roommate is the reason you smell of territorial Alpha?"

"He might be," Rey mutters, unable to look Leia in the eye. What is it about this near-stranger that's making her comfortable enough to admit any of this?

"There's something there, isn't there? Could you see yourself with him?"

Rey's eyes widen. "That might be a leap. I barely know anything about Ben."

"Ben? Nice name." Leia's grin is almost wicked. "Gosh, it's a pity _he's_ not your soulmate. What a happy coincidence that would be, hm?"

A happy coincidence indeed, but Rey turns red at the thought. She mumbles, "Sure, but we don't live in a Hallmark movie."

Leia studies her for an odd amount of time, and then hums quietly. "I suppose not… but you never know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up, Snoke is awful in this chapter. He has certain views of what Omegas should be and those clash with the opinions of... pretty much everyone else. He also won't be a major part of this fic.
> 
> There's also more info on Rey's backstory and it's not super happy (predictably) but _this_ chapter and the themes brought up in this chapter are the reason for the "angst" tag.

Rey fidgets in her seat, annoyed with the tiny little desk-surface attached to her armrest. She's not sure what the point of having a surface for writing is if it's smaller than the size of a notepad, but at least she's only present in class to assist and not to scrawl barely legible notes. All the surrounding students are following along with Professor Skywalker, more closely than they usually do because he's instructing them on what to expect on the midterm. As per usual, Professor Skywalker paces as he lectures. Things rarely get written down on the massive whiteboard covering the front, but today he's using the Powerpoint slides she put together for him to outline what the midterm will cover. With any luck, the info she's cobbled together will help ensure at least _some_ people pass his nightmare of an exam.

He clicks past the slide she assembled on healthcare-related soulmate topics and lands on a slide about the legal implications of soulmates. For a moment, he glances at what she's put together—a standard case study, and a good transition from the last slide since it concerns a person's legal right to make medical decisions for their soulmate in the case of them being unable to make decisions themselves—and he gives it a half-hearted shrug and proceeds to discuss something else.

"We've gone over this, you should all know that, barring the existence of a living will, a person will always have the legal right to make medical decisions in the event their soulmate is unable, so let's consider another situation," he suggests. "Now, for the exam, we won't deep-dive on these topics. You would look at these situations in depth in a more advanced class, but for now, I only need you to be able to give short answer responses. That being said, let's consider non-soulmate relationships. We haven't spent much time on those and there will be a question or two on the exam."

Professor Skywalker pauses to take a long drink of coffee, then clears his throat. "Now. Obviously, it's rare for a person to take part in a serious non-soulmate relationship, but let's consider those who do. Every culture has different thoughts on this, but can anyone give me examples of ways cultures discourage such relationships?"

A dozen hands raise as Rey tries to sink into the floor. Professor Skywalker points out someone toward the middle of the class, nodding to them, and a young man answers, "Some countries don't allow non-soulmate couples to marry? And there are some that _do_ allow marriage but don't let them file taxes together, I think?"

Professor Skywalker nods. "Both true, though that's changing in some places."

He glances around and picks a woman sitting down the row from Rey, who says, just barely loud enough to be heard, "We tell stories about why it's bad. Cautionary tales? Like 'Romeo and Juliet'."

"Mm, _star-cross'd_ _lovers_ indeed," Professor Skywalker sighs. "You make a good point," he tells the woman—Kaydel, she thinks. "'Romeo and Juliet' is an interesting one, because it not only paints a non-soulmate pair as unhealthy, but _destructively_ so. Lives are lost, and not just their own. Are there any other stories like this that we tell? Any superstitions? Any tales or warnings that discourage non-soulmate couplings?"

There's maybe a little part of her that feels called out, though that's not the point of this conversation. Still, she can't help but think of Ben, of those shared and inadvisable kisses that were far from casual, no matter how much she keeps trying to lie to herself.

He picks a third student who asks, "Well, this isn't about the non-soulmate pairs themselves, but what about their children? What about the superstition about children born to non-soulmates?"

Her blush and her thoughts of Ben disappear in an instant. An uncomfortable wave of nausea spikes in her. It's like the room's gone hot, and she's frozen, watching this train wreck in motion as Professor Skywalker gestures for the guy to continue. He says it so matter-of-fact it almost hurts more. "It's said that any child of a non-soulmate pair will never be truly happy. That they will never find love."

She wants to crumple in on herself.

"Ah, of course," Professor Skywalker nods. "Most cultures have specific names or slurs for these children—ones I won't repeat for obvious reasons—and there were points in history where children born to non-soulmates were often abandoned, or found they were less likely to be accepted in social circles, and…"

Her stomach turns, and as subtly as she can, she grabs her jacket off the chair next to her, wipes at her damp eyes, and stands. Professor Skywalker isn't looking her way. He's still droning on with things she can't bear to listen to, so she rushes quietly out of the classroom. When she gets outside into the hallway of the building she's in, she drops onto a bench built into the wall and shuts her eyes, focusing on taking slow, deep breaths. It's silly. Just an old-wives tale. Of _course_ she can be happy. Of _course_ she can find love. It's just a silly superstition that nobody believes in.

Out of habit, she takes out her phone, finding comfort in the one person who's somehow become brilliant at reassuring her and making her feel better.

hi. i'm having an awful morning  
i want to get my mind off something. can i ask today's question?  
Ask away, but are you sure you don't need to talk? Is everything okay?  
i'm fine, just need a distraction  
what's the perfect date?  
(don't say april 25, that's cheating)  
??  
miss congeniality? really?  
how have you not seen it?  
you should see it, it's a great movie  
As long as it's better than Titanic.  
much better  
so what's the perfect date?  
Something relaxing. I could cook you dinner, maybe we could stay in. I could read to you. Or we could watch a movie.  
that does sound like a perfect date  
Does it? We'll have to do that, then. Someday.  
maybe. someday.  
Hey... can I ask? What's bothering you? If you want to talk about it, I'm here.  
it's silly Not if it made your morning awful.  
you know that supersition? about the kids of non-soulmates?  
Ah. The one about how we'll never fall in love, be happy, we're eternally doomed, etc?  
"we"?  
My parents aren't soulmates.  
They've also been (mostly) happily married for almost 30 years.  
oh  
Your parents weren't soulmates either, I'm guessing?  
no.  
and i don't think the word "happily" ever applied to them  
not really  
Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?

The first answer that comes to mind is a solid _hell no,_ because she's never told anyone this stuff—not Finn, not any of her foster parents, not anyone, really. Her caseworker knew since the woman had basic information about her, but Rey's never willingly told anyone any of this. But if there's anyone she can tell, it's him. That's the point of this soulmate stuff. Even if he's just a platonic soulmate, he'll understand. She bites her lip and answers him.

not over text. maybe a letter? it's a lot   
Whatever you're comfortable with. I don't want to overstep.   
you haven't. I'll write to you.

* * *

Some days Ben loves his job, and he finds himself wandering around the stacks of shelves wondering how he can improve the library, whether by starting a new program for book recommendations or maybe seeing if a local author can come in and do a book reading. Sometimes his job makes him feel appreciated and… alive. Some days it makes him want to punch a wall until the drywall turns to dust, or until his knuckles bleed. Today, it's the latter.

Ben holes himself in one of the study rooms, three doors down from the one he found Rey in a little over a month ago, and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to take deep breaths. Desperately, he wishes there wasn't currently a student in the one Rey had been in—the odds that he'd still be able to smell her in that room are almost zero, but even the faintest hint would help. He buries his face in his own shirt, hoping her soothing scent somehow came in contact with it.

No luck.

The fury that thrums through his veins is overwhelming.

_Ah, you were assigned a little bitch._

The words echo in his mind and make his skin crawl. He'd been texting Rey to ask if her day got better after this morning, and of course Snoke would—

_When's the wedding? Is she quitting her job when you marry, or when she's with child?_

Ben pauses, having reached the point of anger that's maybe a bit closer to lunacy, and wonders if anyone would notice if Snoke was murdered and left to rot in the basement archives. Does anyone even go down there, other than Rose? She'd back him up.

_With any luck you got one of the obedient ones, but either way, Omegas can be trained. Broken._

It's only when the chair he's gripping groans like it's about to break that Ben realizes he's clenching it and baring his teeth. He shakes his head, working on the calming breaths again.

Fuck. This job isn't worth it. Not with a boss like that.

"Want help burying the body?" Rose's dry, pissed off voice sounds from the doorway. He hadn't even realized she opened the door. "You could always claim it was in defense of your soulmate. Might not even serve time in prison." She huffs, tightening her arms over her chest. "If you don't kill him, I might. I heard the tail end of that bullshit he was spewing."

Ben snaps, "He's an asshole. I would never expect her to—"

"No kidding," Rose interrupts. "Nobody sane would. If that's what's bothering you, don't let it. I swear Snoke's from the stone ages. It's 2019, but you know, he's still insisting there's something _unnatural_ about me, since I'm a woman _and_ an Alpha. According to him, that's 'not right'. I've reported him to University HR but you know how that goes."

"I really don't need more of a reason to be angry right now."

Rose sighs, but nods and walks toward him, leaning against the table that sits in the middle of the room. "You going to be okay? You know Kira wouldn't even be speaking to you if she thought you were anything like that, right? You have nothing to worry about."

He knows, but it helps to hear. He closes his eyes, sucking in a long breath and letting it out slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks for saying it, though."

"Mm, of course. And I have more good news for you. It's five—get out of here. Go home and drink a bunch of wine and bitch about this to Kira or Rey, or both, because god knows any Omega in their right mind would be happy to help plot the murder of an asshole like Snoke."

"That's not a bad idea," he admits. There's no doubt in his mind Rey would happily go after Snoke if she heard the sort of things the guy said. Oddly, the thought makes him feel better. He leaves Rose with a hug that's comforting, but maybe not as comforting as he needs, and messes up her hair while she scowls up at him like he's an annoying brother. "Thanks for finding me, this helped. I'm going to head out."

She swaps her scowl for a smile. "Any time. You'll be at the party tonight, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"Mm. See you later, then?"

Ben nods and gives her a tight grin, hoping it looks natural because he's still a bit too angry to _really_ smile, and he leaves, only ducking by the staff lounge to grab his jacket on the way out. Outside it's a downpour—typical weather for it being almost April, and he trudges home, glad at least that the rain will clear up any lingering bits of snow left from winter. It's still frostbite-cold, and it seems unbelievable that in another month and a half he'll be complaining about the heat.

When he arrives home, he strips off his jacket and ignores how drenched he got during the walk. He ignores the uncomfortable wetness and hangs the jacket, then presses his face into the bright red coat hanging next to it, taking in a deep breath.

It's creepy. He _knows_ it's creepy, but it's the fastest way he can think of to calm down, and—

Rey's amused voice comes from behind him. "Should I be concerned or flattered that you're smelling my jacket?"

Ben cringes, turning around to see his now-curious soulmate, wrapped in a gray terry-cloth robe, with her hair wet and dripping over her shoulder. She's just stepped out of the shower, her skin damp and dewy, her cheeks flushed. How he's matched to someone so beautiful is beyond him.

Rey clears her throat when he doesn't reply, and he stammers out a, "Sorry. Sorry. My day was—well. It was a really bad day. I was mad and…"

"You don't need to explain." She gives him a half shrug. "I was in the kitchen. I could tell when you came in. You went from like, rage-filled murder-y Alpha to…" the hint of pink to her cheeks turns as red as her jacket. "Well. If there's anything else I can do to help, let me know."

It's a kind offer, one he wouldn't expect from her considering everything that's happened between them lately. They still haven't talked about things, post-kissing, so Ben knows he must not be thinking straight, because his only response is to ask, a little desperately, "Can I hug you?"

"Oh." After a moment, she admits, "I could use a hug, too. My day wasn't bad, exactly. Just… I don't know."

She's sad. He can't quite put his finger on how he knows, on whether it's a soulmate thing or an Alpha-Omega thing, but he knows. Usually only the more extreme emotions affect scent—arousal, anger, terror, joy—but he knows she's sad. Not extremely so, but there's a hint of it there.

It takes him three steps to cross the distance between them and wrap his arms around her. Rey doesn't complain about him being damp from the rain and only sighs, leaning against his chest. Her hands press into the middle of his back comfortingly—they rub up and down like she's trying to soothe him. Ben nuzzles into the side of her neck, absentmindedly letting his lips brush over her gland. In seconds her scent puts him at ease. He doesn't forget the anger, but it seeps out of him like a headache disappearing after taking pain meds.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks quietly.

"My boss found out my soulmate's an Omega," he explains. His words come out mumbled against her skin. It sounds like he's half asleep. "He started asking when she was going to quit her job to raise our kids, and said something about how he hoped, for my sake, she wouldn't need _training."_

He panics, just for a moment, as he realizes how close he was to substituting _you_ for _she_.

"What an ass," Rey breathes. "No wonder you were so angry. You must have flipped out."

"Almost broke a chair." They quiet for a moment, and even though his mind has gone fuzzy, it registers that he's holding her, pressing her to his chest, with his mouth at her gland. This—just this—is everything he's been wanting. "I don't know how to work for someone like that," he sighs. "And I have to see him again today. The library's hosting an event for some faculty members and donors, and I'm expected to be there. Normally I don't mind them since they're crowded enough so I can avoid being social, but Snoke's going to be there and I _really_ don't want to see him again today."

She makes a sympathetic noise. "That sucks." Unless he's imagining things, she holds him a little closer, and asks, "Do you want company? I can be a buffer."

It sounds too good to be true. It also sounds a little like a date, but that really _would_ be too good to be true.

Ben pulls away from her neck, leaving her with a soft kiss just over her gland, and stares down at her. "Would you mind?"

She hesitates, and he just can't help himself. He cups her face with one hand, his thumb caressing a path over the freckles on her cheek, and… the urge to tell her the truth is overwhelming. He wants to tell her they're soulmates and that he didn't really even need proof to know it because how could she _not_ be his soulmate? He wants to tell her everything, how he's pretty sure he's going to love her, and love her his whole life if she'll let him, and—

Maybe he's crazy, or maybe she's leaning into him. Ben lowers his head, little by little, hoping she'll meet him for another kiss.

He's not sure what does it, but something breaks the spell.

"Yeah," she stammers, stepping back. She blinks and clears her throat. "Yeah. Sure, I'll come with you." She pauses, and adds, "But um. It's not like… a date. It's just me knowing you had a crappy day and you needing a buffer. Okay?"

Maybe it's pitiful, but it's still a whole night with Rey, and right now, he'll take what he can get.

It helps, that he notices her eyes linger on his mouth.

"Sure," he murmurs. "It's not a date."

* * *

Even in a dress—her favorite semi-casual deep purple one, which is specifically her favorite due to its deep pockets—Rey feels out of place. She still can't figure out why she offered to come to a party, considering that she's feeling so emotionally raw after her day, and after writing Kylo a scarily honest letter. For a minute, she glances around at the faculty members, probably tenured and all renowned in their fields or something, and wonders if anyone's wondering what she's doing there.

But then Ben's arm slides around her waist, and things get a little better. He doesn't pull her closer, doesn't cross any lines, just traces little circles over her side with his thumb. It takes her an embarrassing amount of time to remember he can tell how she's feeling.

"I never like these things," he says softly, sipping at a glass of red wine. She went for white, and it's just as sweet as she hoped. "It's nice having company. Normally I follow Rose and her mate, Hux, around or I find a corner to stay in, but this is much better."

That's when she notices it, the spiking anxiety that's lacing the edges of his usual scent. It's instinct to lean into him, offering reassurance any way she can. "What's this thing for, anyway?"

The library is in pristine shape for once, and they're in the part of it that's all glass display cases filled with University property like signed first edition novels, original printings of ancient books, and historic documents—far from where students are studying for exams with energy drinks and espresso-filled coffees. It's basically a mini-museum the students love to ignore, but at the moment it's bustling with people. They're all chatting away and laughing and talking up whatever research projects or business investments they have in the works, having conversations Rey's not sure how she'd take part in.

Ben winces, just a hint. "My boss has these events every few months. They're… fundraisers, sort of. The people here are donors. Snoke has _lots_ of friends. All of them wealthy." Then, in a quiet mutter, he adds, "Many of them assholes."

"Ah. And you couldn't have feigned an illness?"

He pauses for a moment, and huffs. "I can't believe I never thought of that."

Rey laughs, leaning into his warmth as she shakes her head at him. "Okay, here's how we're going to do this. We'll do a sweep around the room, talk to a couple of people so your boss sees you showed up, and then we're going to grab a _lot_ of snacks and maybe a couple bottles of wine and ditch this."

"That's brilliant," he breathes, sounding shocked at her solution. "Though… wouldn't it be better if I cooked for you when we get home? The food here is mostly desserts and—"

She interrupts with a firm, "No way, you don't get to do that tonight. You've got to lay off the food stuff, Ben. If I want my dinner to be an entire platter of fancy brownies and whatever those little cakes over there are, that's exactly what my dinner will be, okay?"

"Wouldn't you prefer something better?" he prods. "I have all the makings for a cottage pie… flaky pastry, veggies, a thick cream sauce? It would pair well with a wine I have."

One of the worst parts about Ben is that he makes it impossible not to give in to his suggestions, because as much as she wants to shove half the available desserts in her mouth just to spite him and his Alpha tendencies, the cottage pie-thing he's offering sounds kind of amazing.

She glares at him, but then relents with a sigh. "Fine."

He makes a valiant effort to keep the smile off his face, but fails. A moment later, he nods toward where Rose stands chatting with a tall redheaded man near a display of tiny little desserts and says, "If we're planning to talk to a few people, they're an easy choice. You've met Rose, but I can introduce you to her husband, Hux. He hates these things, too." Ben winces again. "Too many Alphas in one place."

That explains the smell. It's like she's walked into a damn forest. She's mostly managed to avoid it by staying so close to Ben, but if Rey had to guess, she would have assumed she's the only Omega in the room. Now it's almost laughable how many of the surrounding people smell as though they've rubbed pine tree air fresheners over themselves. She leans in closer, nuzzling against the soft black sweater that covers his chest while she silently reminds herself this is _not_ a date. She's simply breathing him in, getting a break from all the pine trees.

Ben's lips quirk up. He holds her closer, not trying to move despite them planning to make rounds and leave quickly. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she laughs. "Sorry. Just… they all smell like pine trees. Well, not all of them, but it's a lot."

He hums, seeming a little pleased by that. "Ah. And I don't."

It's not a question, so she doesn't answer. Rey just breathes him in again, sighing as the last of her nerves slip away.

This isn't how she should be acting. She should be keeping her distance, should have stayed home tonight, should be avoiding him completely, but the idea of doing any of that feels almost painful. The idea of _avoiding_ him is nauseating.

When she glances up, she's not the least bit surprised to see him staring down at her. The look he gives her is tender and affectionate. Fond. His lips part, and she thinks he might kiss her, which is something she both wants and… and there really isn't an _and,_ Rey realizes. She doesn't want to consider the implications, doesn't want to consider the consequences, but every bit of her wants him to kiss her. Ben's hand presses into her lower back, and she angles her face toward his, letting her eyes flutter closed. It's like the entire room melts away, all the sharp scents and harsh buzzing of so many people talking over each other dulling into nothing until she's only surrounded by him. Her breathing stutters when she feels his breath warm on her lips.

A light, excited voice cuts through their bubble of silence.

"Ben! You're here!"

Her eyes snap open, and she turns to glance at the woman who's bounded over to them. Ben's lips meet her cheek—the annoyed huff he lets out when he notices she's turned her head is kind of adorable.

Rose is possibly overdressed, in a stunning shiny cobalt dress that matches her mate's tie. Her hair is in glossy waves that would probably take hours, if not longer, to get right, but she manages to make it look effortless. Her eyebrow quirks as she observes them, and Rey's not very familiar with the woman, but she has no doubt Rose knows she's not Ben's soulmate.

The redhead, Hux, she assumes, blinks at them, and gives her an uneasy wave with the arm not around his mate. He speaks with a crisp accent, and nods to her as he greets, "Hi. I don't think we've met? I'm Hux. Or… Armie, to friends, which… I suppose you are?"

A slow grin grows over Rose's lips. "Armie, _this_ is Rey."

" _Rey?_ As in—"

Rose nods to him, and they share a little knowing smile. For a moment, Rey thinks she's lost her mind, because why would these people be talking about her? But then she looks up at Ben and notices the deep shade of red he's turned, and it hits her, that he's talked about her to them.

Which begs the question, what _exactly_ has he said?

She clears her throat, giving Rose a friendly smile. "Well now I need to know—what have you heard?"

"That sounds like a question for Ben," Rose replies. Then she takes a long drink from her glass, magically not leaving a giant lipstick stain on the glass, and _winks_. Next to her, Hux snorts. "Anyway," Rose continues, "I can't believe he brought you to one of these. They're so dull. The only part any of us like is the food and wine. "

She's nice. Personable. Doesn't smell like pine trees, which is a plus. Rey shrugs and admits, "I already told Ben we're sneaking out with wine soon."

Rose laughs. Even her mate looks amused, or maybe a little bewildered when Rose says, "Nobody will mind if you steal some. Just don't make out in the stacks. God, Snoke would probably explode."

"All the more reason to," Hux mutters against the edge of his glass. He cups a hand to the back of his neck, wincing uncomfortably, and adds, "We won't stay long, either. Never do." His wince turns into a grimace as he glances down at the woman at his side. Their height difference is downright adorable, and he has to lean down to say, in a hushed tone, "Speaking of." He gestures subtly to something behind them. "Sorry to cut this short, but I don't feel like being around when he comes to stroke his own ego. The man is insufferable."

"Just as well," Rose groans. "I see him enough during the day, and I need another drink, anyway." Quickly, she tells them, "Armie and I play a little game at these things to see how long we can avoid Snoke for before he catches us and starts pretending he's curious about how a so-called non-standard Alpha-Omega relationship works."

Rey catches her meaning right away and winces at the small-mindedness of the suggestion that there's anything "non-standard" about a female Alpha and male Omega. She smiles at them sympathetically and gives a little wave goodbye. As soon as their backs are turned so they can walk off toward the people serving drinks, her smile falls.

She starts to ask Ben about the horridness of his boss. "Would he really say that?"

"I vote we not find out. We've been here for… fifteen minutes? That's enough, right?"

"Fine with me."

Before they can walk away, Rey catches the scent of what has to be the most repulsive Alpha she's ever scented, and she turns to see where it's coming from. Whatever that scent is, it makes her want to shove pine tree air fresheners up her nose, because it smells of something rotten. It raises bumps on her skin, makes her feel instinctively more unsafe than any Alpha's made her feel. She presses into Ben's side as the man approaches them. He _looks_ nice enough. His gray hair is short, his smile is curious, and if she couldn't smell him and hadn't heard about the things he's said, she might assume he's friendly.

It quickly becomes clear that he's not. When he arrives in front of them, his eyes scan her from head to foot, lingering uncomfortably. Ben stiffens. He clears his throat, muttering, "Rey, this is my boss, Mr. Snoke." He nods to the man, obviously struggling to remain polite, and adds, "Mr. Snoke, this is Rey."

A rather creepy smile spreads over the man's face. "Ah. The little Omega."

"Excuse me?" Rey asks, blankly. There's a little voice in her head urging her to shut up, suggesting she should maybe make an excuse to step away, grab some more wine. She squashes the voice. It's possible she bares her teeth as she continues. "Addressing me by my designation is rather rude, don't you think? Especially when Ben just introduced us, so—"

The nerve it must take for him to interrupt her is astounding. "Ah. Benjamin, I expected you to have better control over her."

There's a flare of pure anger, a little hatred, and a lot of indignation, from the man next to her. Oddly, feeling his reaction almost calms her, but Ben's voice comes out in a hiss. " _Control?"_

As angry as she is, Rey can see the oncoming train wreck for what it is. She gives the asshole who's glaring at them a tight smile and blurts, "Right. Anyway. We should be going." She finds and squeezes Ben's hand, digging her nails in more than she should, then grinds out, "Don't you think so, Ben? Shouldn't we be going?"

She sees him twitch, sees his jaw clench as he stares down his boss. Finally, he lets out a huff. "Yes. We should."

Ben lets her start pulling him from the exhibit area where all the partygoers are, but then, naturally, his asshole boss makes the moronic decision to roll his eyes and comment, "She's even got you on a leash, how embarrassing."

At that comment, Ben stills, his eyes narrowing at the man. Thankfully they're at the edge of the party and it doesn't seem like anyone's noticed, but it doesn't take a genius to guess what Ben's currently thinking.

"Don't even think about it," she whispers, gripping his hand. "What we're _not_ going to do is punch our bosses in public when they're surrounded by people who can make our lives at this university suck. That's never a good idea, Ben."

He considers it for a moment while anger rolls off him in waves. To her relief, he just shakes his head and turns, joining her as she swipes an unopened bottle of wine—red, she thinks—off a table on the way out. Once they're out of the exhibit-area, an idea comes to mind. It's probably a terrible idea, but tensions are high and Ben's still obviously pissed, and the idea of being spiteful is more than a little appealing. She veers off-course, directing them away from the path that will take them to an exit, and instead guides them to an elevator and angrily presses the _up_ arrow half a dozen times.

Ben frowns. "Why are we going upstairs?"

"Because we're both pissed off and making out in the stacks seems like exactly the amount of spiteful I feel like being tonight."

He blinks at her, looking a little astonished, but when the elevator doors open, he follows right behind her.

* * *

Rey's mouth is demanding, consuming, as it slides over his. He's got her back pressed to a wall at the end of an aisle of old books nobody will want to read—at least not tonight—and her thighs are gripping his hips as she kisses him to forget how angry she is. His fury dissipated the moment she kissed him. He keeps trying to soften the way their mouths work together, keeps trying to slow the hurried way her jaw works, but there's no denying Rey when she's determined to take what she needs… so he gives it to her. He holds her tightly, gripping her thighs, hoping he's not using enough pressure to bruise her, and bites at her lips, swallowing the moan she lets out.

Ben kisses and sucks marks down her neck while she catches her breath, and just as he's licking at the hollow of her throat, she murmurs, "You've _got_ to get a new job. You're obviously not happy."

He quirks an eyebrow, lifting his head. She's still in his arms, held up with ease, and he asks, "What if I don't know what kind of job makes me happy?"

"Then you aren't allowed to give me shit for not knowing what I want," she snorts, giving him a bit of a grin.

"That's different," he murmurs, not bothering to hide the way his eyes drop to her mouth. "My issue is with my job—I don't know what I want with my job. That's hardly the same as a relationship." He leans in, letting his nose slide against hers. "But I think you do know what you want. You're just afraid of it."

She stares at him, and part of him knows he should turn back now, should just focus on kissing her while she still wants him to. He _does_ kiss her, just once, softly, like he's apologizing in advance for what he's about to say.

"What's worse?" he asks gently. "Me being unhappy with a job and not knowing what I want instead of it, or you being alone because you're too afraid to let someone try to make you happy?"

Something flickers over her expression. Something hurt, and sad. She sucks in a breath, blinking a few times, and clears her throat. "Don't make this out to be more than it is. Put me down."

The deep wave of sadness he feels from her is both confusing and painful.

* * *

Rey tries not to think too hard about what he said when she curls up in bed later that night. It's silly, trying to sleep a few hours earlier than she normally would, but maybe she's not really trying to sleep… maybe she's trying to hide. From what, she's not ready to admit. Only the dim lamp on her bedside table lights her room, and its dark blue shade causes it to cast calming shadows as she rests under her heavy comforter. Her eyes flick from picture to picture—she's not tired enough to sleep, and the photos on her wall catch her attention. There's the giant black-and-white photo of the Eiffel Tower, an overhead shot of Belize's barrier reef, a breathtaking view of the Grand Canyon during sunrise. So many places she's never been. There's a little voice in the back of her mind that says Ben's right. She's afraid of so many things. Afraid of seeing the world, afraid of making these big decisions about her future, afraid of having a soulmate, afraid of _Ben_ , and what her reaction to him means.

What if none of those things are what she expects? What if they let her down? What if they break her heart?

Isn't it safer, here in this room, admiring that beauty through a picture that can't disappoint her? Isn't it easier keeping people at arm's length? Isn't it better to protect herself?

_What's worse? Me being unhappy with a job and not knowing what I want instead of it, or you being alone because you're too afraid to let someone try to make you happy?_

The worst part of all of it is that she knows, deep down, that he's right.

* * *

> March 28th, 2019
> 
> Kylo,
> 
> I'm sorry it's taken me over three months to tell you what I'm about to tell you. I know I've told you I'm scared of all of this—of meeting you, being with you, of even just having a soulmate—but I've never told you much about why that is. The truth is, there are a lot of reasons. Enough reasons to fill a rainforest's worth of paper, maybe. I don't know, but I want to explain why I was upset this morning. Or I guess by the time you get this, it'll have been a week ago?
> 
> Anyway. My birth-parents weren't soulmates. I don't know much about them, except for the letter my birth-mother left me. From what I gathered from it, they fell in love around their late teens, early twenties, I think. I've made a point not to look into it closely. They fell in love, and according to her letter, they promised each other they wouldn't look at their soulmate results. But my birth-father looked. And then he left. According to Facebook, he's alive and happy, with a family and his soulmate. He was never a parent to me. He left before I was born, and not long after, my birth-mother died. I grew up in the system. I could contact him now, but I don't see the point. That's blunt and cold of me, and I might seem a little unbothered by it, but mostly I'm just bitter.
> 
> I hope you don't take what I'm about to say personally. It's not about you. You seem amazing and kind. But soulmates have never made much sense to me. I don't get it. I don't understand how someone can leave the person they love and their own unborn child, and swap that future for a future with someone Soulbond claims is their perfect match. I can't fathom it, but I know my parents aren't the only time it's happened.
> 
> How can Soulbond guarantee they can find the person someone will inevitably fall in love with? And then, on the other hand, why does anyone ever risk loving someone who isn't their soulmate? I know this sounds like I've flipped my opinion around, but assuming Soulbond _can_ find each person's perfect match, how can a person be with someone who isn't their assigned match without being afraid their lover will decide to be with their soulmate instead? It's a giant leap of faith.
> 
> That's all any of this is—deciding to be with a soulmate, deciding to be with a non-soulmate—either way, it feels like a huge leap of faith, and that's terrifying.
> 
> I know you aren't trying to rush me into anything, and I'm not sure how to tell you how grateful I am for that. I feel guilty sometimes, that it's been months and we've never even swapped names, but I'm trying. I promise, I'm trying. Today, this is the best I can do, and it might not seem like much, but you're the first person I've told any of this to. I hope that counts for something. I hope you understand how hard it was to write this, and how hard it's going to be to put it in an envelope and send to you, because I don't know how else to show how hard I'm trying to open up, to trust you. To trust _anyone,_ really.
> 
> Thank you for making me feel like I might be able to.
> 
> Kira

* * *

As he reads the letter, almost a week after the regrettable party at the library, Ben thinks his heart might be breaking. The pain in her words, the pain in her story, physically hurts. And yet at the same time, so many things make more sense. Now he gets why she's been avoiding him since that night, why she's been so hesitant to be with him in any way, despite how clearly she wants to be.

He sits on the edge of his bed with a sigh, gripping the paper, and reads it again, coming to a very simple and very solid decision.

In whatever way he can, he'll show that he won't leave her. In whatever way she lets him, he'll love her.

After a moment, he snorts softly. He's thought of it as though it's some sort of choice, loving Rey. As if he has control over the way his heart flutters when she's around, as if he can choose to stop worrying about her. As if he can stop trying to make sure she's happy by doing the most subtle things he can think of, from adding a few pieces of (healthy-ish) dark chocolate to her packed lunches, or putting movies he thinks she'll like into the Netflix queue. As if he can ignore how much he wants to kiss her whenever she's nearby.

Whether Soulbond somehow determined it, or whether it's biology, or whether it's just _Rey,_ Ben's sure he never stood a chance.

He was always going to love her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	8. Chapter 8

As she sits in one of the shared grad student offices and listens to a freshman insist he be given a better grade despite having attended a single class in three months, Rey thinks maybe working in academia isn't for her. Of all the directions she could go with a soulmate-related career, perhaps this won't be the one she picks.

"—and I forgot where the classroom was, and sorry but why do we even study soulmates? Everyone gets one, why's that complicated?"

Rey gives the kid across from her a tired look. "I can answer that question, but if you want a different grade, you should email Professor Skywalker. Or consider dropping the course, though it may be tricky to do so since it's so late in the semester." She pauses and sighs. "Do you honestly need me to explain why a person might choose to study this?"

The guy rolls his eyes. She's ten seconds from cutting office hours short and picking up wine on the way home. He mutters, "Sure" as though challenging her to change his mind, something she couldn't care less about trying to do.

"Okay," Rey nods. She sits up straight behind the bare desk and folds her arms over her chest. "So. Soulmates. The concept seems normal but gets weirder the more you think about it. The idea that SoulBond can send you an email or a letter and suddenly you can skip dating and all the getting-to-know you stuff is weird. If you step back and look at it, it's a little crazy. We can accept it at face value, which most people do, _or_ we can dive in and ask a lot of questions."

He snorts, but she ignores him and continues. "The concept of soulmates has impacted everything. Religion. Do you know there are religions that explain soulmates as people whose souls will often cross paths, in this life, past lives, and future? There are some that claim soulmates don't complete you, but help you complete yourself. Or if you're looking for something more tangible, it's impacted science. Were you in class when we went over soulmate biology and learned that soulmates are almost always compatible matches for things such as blood donation?"

It's frustrating to see the lack of impression when she says such a monumental thing. He only shrugs.

"This class is about asking those questions," she says. "It's about asking how soulmate bonds have changed the world, and how cultures handle them differently. If that doesn't strike you as something that's not only relevant, but deeply fascinating, this may not be the class or the study for you."

Less than a minute later, it's decided this is _not_ the class for him. It's probably for the best.

The next student shuffles in a few minutes after he leaves, looking exhausted in a hoodie, yoga pants, and her hair pulled back in two messy buns. She's holding a stack of her textbook, two notebooks, and a massive coffee.

Normally Rey is lucky (or unlucky, depending) to have a single student show up during office hours, but midterm grades have been posted and now students are starting to scramble, possibly because they only have two more homework assignments and a final with which they can raise their grades.

This student, Kaydel, is doing fairly well. She speaks up in class, which is a big part of an intro course, and she's also stayed on top of her work, though Rey remembers her week-long heat absence back at the beginning of class, which probably set her back a little. Thankfully Professor Skywalker is one of the more understanding professors and Chandrila University has made strides in setting fair guidelines for students who miss classes for designation-related reasons.

Kaydel plops down into the chair across the desk from her and lets out an audible sigh, dropping her text and notebooks on the edge of the desk. She takes a long drink of coffee, and Rey waits to see what the woman needs help with.

Finally, Kaydel's brown eyes flick to hers, and she sighs again. "That midterm was a nightmare."

"I know," Rey winces. "I graded the multiple-choice sections. Professor Skywalker writes tricky exams, but the study session and PowerPoint should have helped. If you don't mind reminding me, how did you do? Pretty well, right? I believe the average was in the high 70s."

Kaydel looks a little relieved. "I got a 93. I'm happy with it, but it was tougher than I expected. That's not why I'm here. I signed up for this to fill a requirement, but I'm thinking of swapping my major, and I wanted to talk to someone who's studying it. Professor Skywalker seems busy, and I was hoping you could tell me more about the field. Like, how advanced of a degree does someone need to find a job in something soulmate-related, and what sort of jobs are out there. I could google it but I wouldn't mind hearing your take."

Rey's pleasantly surprised by the question. She hums, sitting back in her chair. "Well, I'm kind of at the point where I'm asking some of those questions, too. Academia is always an option, but that requires more than a four-year degree, and I'm not sure how much formal education you're looking to do." She ponders it, and points out, "This sort of four year degree could be relevant to many jobs. Often it's just a matter of how you spin it, and what you focused on during your studies."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, studying soulmates is relevant to many fields. With an additional degree you could do couple's counseling, especially for the occasional non-soulmate couple, or for soulmates who have personal problems to work on before they feel ready to be together." Rey pauses, reminding herself keep her answer more professional and less personal. "Right now, what you're studying is _people_. You could work in HR—there are companies that look for people who have knowledge of soulmates. Do you know how often bosses and employees discover they're soulmates? It's an ethical nightmare and it happens more often than you'd think. Gosh, tack on some classes or a minor in statistics or data analytics and you could look into government jobs. Continue on to law school and you could look into the laws surrounding soulmates."

Kaydel's eyebrows raise. "Huh. I just thought it was really interesting, and I'm enjoying this class more than the English program." She goes quiet for a moment and asks, "So what are you planning to do? You're in the Master's program for this, right?"

"Ah. Yeah." Rey hesitates. It's an excellent question, but she doesn't have an answer. With a forced laugh she replies, "Right now, I'm planning to try to get through this program. Then we'll see."

It's a relief when Kaydel doesn't look at her in disbelief for not having her life planned out. Instead, she smiles, nods with understanding, and grabs her stack of books and notebooks. "Well, I have another midterm tomorrow. I'm going to go crash in the library. Thanks for talking with me—I appreciate the info."

"Anytime," Rey replies, her mouth curling into a smile.

When Kaydel leaves, she checks her phone. It doesn't appear anyone else will be showing up, but she usually sticks around for another half an hour, so Rey types out a text.

your turn to ask a question   
Good timing, I was just about to text.   
What's your worst habit?   
are we going for worst normal habit?   
like nail biting   
or worst-worst habit?   
Let's say both. Here are mine.   
Normal: I use my phone to avoid people.   
Worst: I always read the last page of a book first.   
that doesn't sound bad   
It is. I never let myself be surprised. I'm uncomfortable when I don't know how something's going to go.   
you're very patient for a man who needs answers to things   
Maybe I've read the end of our book.   
what's that mean?   
It means I have hope.   
Now what are your bad habits?   
i have lots of them   
normal: i make plans and don't see them through   
worst: i never trust people   
i'm working on it   
You'll let me know if I can help?   
i think you already are

He doesn't reply right away, and while waiting for either a response or another student, she starts brainstorming what sort of questions she could address for her thesis. By the time twenty minutes have passed, she's written down half a dozen questions that make little sense and twice as many question marks, and she feels immense relief at the knock that comes at the door frame to the little office.

"Hey, Miss TA-lady, we were hoping for some extra credit?"

Rey snorts as she looks up to see Finn and Poe standing there grinning at her. With a voice laden with faux authority, she sighs. "I'm very sorry gentlemen, but unless you've brought me wine or food, there will be no extra credit."

Poe laughs, letting himself in, and drops into the same chair Kaydel had picked. "So what's up? We haven't seen you in weeks. I half expected we'd find you buried under a pile of textbooks or something."

"Mmm, nah. I bet she's been all wrapped up with that soulmate of hers," Finn pipes in.

"Something like that," she mutters, not wanting to explain the reality. "What are you guys doing here? Not that I mind the interruption—I'm sorry I've been so busy."

The room goes quiet, and she watches Poe glance over at his boyfriend. "Should I do the honors, or do you want to?"

A wide, genuine smile grows on Finn's face. That's when she notices he's practically vibrating with excitement. "We're getting married," he blurts, as if it's a big shock. As far as soulmates go, they've practically been dating a whole lifetime.

There's a surge of happiness in her as she matches their wide grins. "You guys, that's _amazing._ When? Have you picked a date? Who proposed?"

Rey sits there for another half an hour listening to them chatter on about a sweet, romantic over-dinner proposal with matching ring bands, and the wedding they're pulling together within the year since they just can't wait any longer.

And she's happy. She really is. How could she _not_ be happy for her two closest friends who have the love, companionship, and… everything else they've ever wanted?

She's happy, elated, overjoyed.

But it's possible there's a little twinge of something else in there, too.

Later that night, when she's resting in bed, there's maybe more than a little twinge squeezing at her heart. The messy, miserable feeling she'd felt along with the joy has only worsened. It's horrible of her, she thinks, to feel anything but thrilled for them, but she can't help it.

Not for the first time, she's thankful for the person who might understand, and won't judge.

so my friends got engaged   
That's great!   
Isn't it? It sounds like a good thing.   
oh it is, i'm happy for them   
But?

Rey pauses, not sure if she should say what she's thinking.

_What's worse? Me being a little indecisive about the future, or you being alone because you're too afraid to let someone try to make you happy?_

She winces at the echo of the harsh, honest words, and types out a message that's uncomfortable to send.

i feel like my life isn't moving forward   
i don't mean just romantically, but traveling and what i'm studying and... just living   
it feels like i hit pause   
But you could have that, if you want.   
The only thing stopping you is you.   
what if it's not what i expect?   
like, i've always wanted to go to the ocean   
i imagine it's perfect. sandy, peaceful, gorgeous   
but what if i'm wrong?   
what if it's hot and sticky and the sand is coarse and irritating?   
what if it ruins the image i had in my mind   
What if it's better?   
Isn't it worse to never find out?

At that, her fingers still. Slowly, she reads and rereads the messages, blinking at them and the subtext there. It takes almost an hour of resting in bed, staring up at her ceiling, before she has the nerve to respond.

why does it feel like we're not talking about the ocean?   
We were never talking about the ocean, sweetheart.

* * *

Incorrect. Incorrect. Incorrect. Incorrect.

Then finally, _correct._

Rey groans, shaking her red pen as it runs out of ink. At this point she's starting to wonder if the student whose homework she's grading is purposely failing the class, because their grades reflect scores they should have been able to beat even if they guessed on everything. It's either that, or Professor Skywalker has been truly evil with the homework assignments.

She shivers a little. It seems the library's decided that despite the still-frigid weather, April automatically means _Spring_. The heat must be off. She shrugs her cardigan on over her t-shirt, and the movement jostles the little compass that rests at her chest under her shirt. For a moment she touches it through the soft cotton, smiling at it.

_We were never talking about the ocean, sweetheart._

It's a struggle not to think of him and his words, and it's even harder to push him from her mind when she feels the compass against her skin. It makes her warm, makes her feel cared for, so unless she's showering or sleeping, it stays on her. Often, she finds herself playing with it during classes or meetings with Professor Skywalker.

Returning to grading while Kylo is front and center in her mind is impossible, so she takes out her phone and texts him.

fun fact of the day:   
grading homework is my least favorite part of being a ta   
i don't miss being an undergrad   
I don't miss it, either, but I've been out of it for a lot longer than you.

One of her eyebrows raises at that. Just based on his apparent enthusiasm for Harry Potter and some of their other conversations, she's been assuming he's close-ish to her in age.

when you say "a lot longer"...   
Oh, you didn't know? I'm getting ready to retire.   
Almost the big 8-0.   
Late retirement, but I'm looking forward to it.   
I already adopted a dozen cats.

Rey almost drops her phone. She's heard of large age differences among soulmates, but it's uncommon. It's one of the many reasons soulmates are not put in contact with each other until their twenties. But an almost sixty year age difference? That can't be—

I'm kidding. Did I scare you?   
(I'm in my early 30s)   
if i strangle you when we meet, remember this moment   
that was terrible   
since we're sharing, i'm 24   
Is a nine year age difference too much?   
(Did you just say *when* we meet?)   
if i choose not to date you it won't be the age difference   
it'll be because you told me you're 80   
(i might have said *when* but i might also be regretting that now that i know you're an ass)   
Interesting. If you aren't planning to date me, why would my age matter?   
so the weather here is horrible today   
Very subtle transition.   
excuse you, that was an excellent transition   
you're horrible, the weather's horrible   
makes sense to me   
Speaking of bad transitions, I've now seen Miss Congeniality.   
i still can't believe you hadn't seen it   
are you sure you aren't 80?   
I'm really not.   
I'm happy to prove it to you.   
Hm. That sounded more suggestive than I intended.

Rey snorts. She's not sure how to respond, so she turns back to grading. At least now, it's with a smile on her face.

Unfortunately the homework she turns back to is _horrendous_. All of them are, somehow. So much so that she makes a note to try to convince Professor Skywalker to scale the grades if he isn't planning to already. Only two pages later, and she groans, stretching in her chair. The area she's in is empty, probably because she's chosen to hide herself in the basement archives, far away from the noisy students and, maybe more importantly, far from where she might run into Ben just in case he comes in on his day off. She's not avoiding him exactly, but…

Yes. She _is_ avoiding him. They've barely exchanged more than a few words since he so bluntly stated that she's alone because she's afraid. Not that he's wrong, but the truth to his words made them sting that much more. What's worse is the way he still does little things for her. He still makes extra servings of food, packaging leftovers marked with little notes indicating they're for her to take for lunches. He still leaves the coffee pot on so it's hot and ready when she wakes up, and just a few days ago she found a copy of a book—one she's been on a wait-list to check out—on their living room coffee table. It wasn't hard to figure out who bought it and left it for her.

The guilt is overwhelming, but not as overwhelming as whatever it is she feels when they're in the same room.

The basement archives are dimly lit with no natural light, presumably to protect the various texts and items stored in fancy glass display cases. For some reason people never seem to come down here, so when the study rooms are claimed, this is always her next stop. It's silent and cozy, and—

Rey frowns when the lights flicker.

When they fully shut off, she startles and stands, on alert. It's pitch black. Amid the slow rising panic, Rey squints in the dark, trying to see the deep red walls and cream colored carpets and glass display cases. She can't. Every natural instinct—both Omega and just _human—_ kicks in and screams that she should be terrified

She tries to stay calm. Humans have been afraid of the dark for ages, but it's not a fear of the dark, per se. It's a fear of not knowing what's _in_ the dark, what's lurking and waiting to jump out.

There's the sound of a door handle being jiggled and then soft swear, and Rey almost jumps out of her skin. Just by the scent she knows it's an Alpha—a familiar one—but it's not Ben. The thought of being alone with one in a dark room sends her spiraling.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," the voice finally soothes. Rose. "Rey? That's you, right? I can tell you're freaking out, but it's okay. I think it's just us in here. The power went out."

Rey lets out a breath and gives her heart a minute to stop pounding out of her chest.

"Rose?"

"Just a sec." There's a fumbling noise, and then the light from a phone casts an eerie glow in an area a few rows away from her. It's enough to illuminate Rose's frustrated expression. "Yeah, it's just us in here. I'm going to text Ben. We won't be stuck here for long."

"He doesn't work weekends."

"Shit, that's right. Well I'm not calling Snoke, so Ben's just going to need to get his ass down here and let us out."

Rey pauses and processes what she's said. "Wait. What do you mean, _stuck here?"_

Even in the dim light, she can see Rose wince. The woman takes a moment and walks around the displays to get closer and then sits on the edge of the table Rey's been grading on. "There's no need to panic, but... at the moment, we're locked in. You know how you need to scan your ID to get in? I think something malfunctioned when the power went out. Normally the doors would automatically unlock for safety reasons, but they didn't."

"I'm sorry, _what the—"_

"I said there's no need to panic!"

She can't help the bit of outrage that seeps into her voice. "How can you expect me not to panic?"

"Because there's a very simple solution," Rose argues. "Someone just needs to use the master key to unlock the door. That's why I texted Ben. The keys are in Snoke's office. If we're lucky, someone will notice before Ben even gets here and they'll unlock the door. Worst-case scenario, we wait for Ben and it takes him… what, twenty minutes, tops?"

"No, worst-case scenario, we starve to death down here!"

Rose goes quiet for a minute, and when she speaks again, there's an annoying amount of humor in her voice. "Considering the amount of snacks you've brought with you," she gestures to the barely visible bag of barbecue chips, "To the library, _where food is not allowed,_ I think we might last a while. Come on, I just texted Ben. Let's hang out until he gets here."

She agrees, reluctantly, but frowns when Rose takes her arm and guides her to one of the couches in the middle of the room. "Are you Alpha-ing me? I don't need you trying to comfort me."

"Stop complaining," Rose mutters, "At least I'm not trying to hug you or get you to purr or something. You're obviously freaking out more than I am, I just thought I'd be nice. Plus, Ben would be pissed if I didn't try to calm you down."

Rose's scent is nowhere near as strong or interesting as Ben's—she's clearly a mated Alpha, but she doesn't have the same miserable pine tree scent so many Alphas do. It's more like… cedar, maybe lilac. Why so many Alphas smell of trees, Rey can't tell, but it's a blessing she's managed to end up living with one that doesn't. At that thought, she can't help but laugh.

"Oh god are you going hysterical on me?" Rose groans. "I really can't handle you losing it right now."

"No wonder you and Ben are friends. You're both assholes."

"Funny, it didn't seem like you thought he was an asshole last time I saw you together," Rose mutters. Then she sighs dramatically. "And here I told him to be nicer to you when you first moved in. Maybe I owe him an apology." Her words have no bite. Even without the light, Rey can tell she's saying it through a grin. "What's so funny? C'mon, might as well distract ourselves until someone gets here. It's a mess outside so it might take a little longer than usual. Ben's on his way though, he just texted."

Longer than usual or not, it's a massive relief. Rey lets herself relax on the couch, and she grins. "I was just thinking about how most Alphas smell like pine trees."

"Pine trees? Do _I_ smell like pine trees?"

"Mm, more like cedar? Maybe a little flowery, too? It's nice. It just struck me as funny that so many Alphas smell like trees to me."

Rose pauses at that. "Hm. Cedar and a little flowery. I've heard worse. The first time I asked a guy out he rejected me because I smelled of overpowering lemon-lime dish soap." A beat later, she asks, "What about Ben? I can't imagine _pine trees_ would be a great scent to live with."

The familiar scent of her favorite spiced ginger cake—the kind one of her first foster parent used to make when she was small—maybe a hint of vanilla, chamomile tea, and if the world's best hug could be a scent, that'd be in there, too. It sounds insane, but somehow, his scent brings to mind a sleepy day spent in bed, curled up in someone's arms, safe and hidden away from the world.

"No," she murmurs. "He doesn't smell like trees." She doesn't mention that his scent is the best one she's come across and changes the subject. "Hey, can I ask you something? If this is overstepping, tell me, but you and your soulmate are… mates, right?"

Rose's smile grows. "Yeah, we just had our one-year anniversary." When Rey doesn't reply, the woman next to her turns on the couch to face her. "I can tell you want to ask me something. It's okay, I don't mind. It's a nice distraction."

A hand falls to Rey's forearm and soothes over it. She gets the oddest feeling Rose could be quite a good friend.

"Were you nervous? About being with him?" Rey pauses, then explains, "I mean, a soulmate pair is already a lot to handle, but an Alpha-Omega pairing... "

"It's permanent? Yeah, it's a lot."

"It really is. So... my soulmate's an Alpha. We've never met and I know he wants to, but like you said, it's a _lot._ Even just the soulmate thing is a lot, but then there's the fact that I've never even dated an Alpha, and honestly I figured I'd match to a Beta. I've only been with Betas, so I just assumed. Part of me thinks I'd be less nervous about a Beta."

"Ah." In the dim light from the phone, she can see Rose nod. "A soulmate is scary enough. Adding in a probable bite, and… yeah. I was nervous about it, too, but not as much as Armie. It took him months before he worked up the nerve to reply to my first message, and I was out of my mind worried that he was already mated or something catastrophic like that. Before we met, I spent _so_ much time worrying he wouldn't like me, either for my scent or for being a woman and an Alpha… you know."

"But you got past it. You're married and mated, and it's _permanent._ That's not terrifying? Wasn't that a huge leap of faith?"

"Of course it is," Rose says softly. "But I was scared the moment I got an email from Soulbond. I think everyone is. Even now, every morning I wake up next to him it terrifies me, because it's such tangible proof of our connection, and… and okay, this is morbid, but what scares me is that someday, no matter what either of us do, that connection will get severed. I'm scared of how much I love him, because it means I've got so much to lose."

There's so much love in her voice, it's almost breathtaking. Rey manages a smile. "He's very lucky."

"Can I say something? Something that's overstepping, but something my sister told me?"

"Why not?" she shrugs. "This is already quite the _get to know you."_

The woman next to her smiles, but doesn't laugh. Rey can't quite make out her expression, but it seems sad. She's silent for a long moment, and when she speaks, her words are careful. Precise.

"Some day, one soulmate will lose the other. It'll be so painful that whoever's still alive will, with high statistical probability, die from grief. It will be the worst thing either person will ever experience." Rose hesitates, and her eyes flick up to Rey's, and soften. "And that scares me every day, but you know what I think would be worse?"

Her voice comes out in a whisper. "What?"

Rose's hand squeezes hers. "Never having known him."

* * *

Ben's panting by the time he reaches the library. A run through the rain on his day off wasn't on his to-do list and neither was forgetting an umbrella, but the minute Rose texted, he dropped the recipe he'd been about to get started on and grabbed a coat.

Somehow April in Chandrila is even worse than winter. That shouldn't be possible, but at least snow doesn't soak through clothing in minutes. The rain is coming down in buckets, and Ben yanks open the library door, sputtering and brushing his soaked hair off his forehead. Inside, the lights are all still off. The students have wisely left in search of parts of the campus that haven't had power knocked out—it's left the library eerily empty and dark. Crossing his fingers that Snoke's stormed off to yell at someone or just left for the afternoon, Ben heads into the man's office and grabs the master keys from the top drawer, right where they always are. 

He skips past the elevator and goes down a few flights of stairs, sighing at the flashing red light indicating the power outage that's stretched across the campus thanks to the storm outside. He wipes his face again, rain water dripping from his hair like he's just stepped out of a shower, and he grabs the key, wasting no time unlocking one of the entrances to the archive room.

It's a relief, noticing his soulmate's scent. Rey's not panicked—he guesses she and Rose kept each other calm in the dark.

"Rose? Rey?"

Something flies into his arms, and Ben has to laugh. Rose tries to yank away, cringing and muttering curses when she realizes he's soaked, but he keeps hugging her just to be an ass.

"Get off me!" Rose laughs, pushing him away. "You're getting my sweater wet! As if I haven't suffered enough today."

Rey's dry humor comes from a few feet away. "What, you didn't appreciate the company?"

"Eh," Rose shrugs, grinning. "I've had better."

"Bitch." The way Rey says it, it's almost an endearment. Ben finds himself wondering when they became friends, but doesn't ask.

They seem to be in a rush to leave the room—not that Ben can blame them. Rose rushes ahead, thanking him again and grabbing the keys before she runs up the stairs, leaving them alone in the dim glow of the emergency lights.

"Hey," he says softly. Rey's… anxious. It's not a surprise since she's been avoiding him. His throat bobs as he thinks over what he's been wanting to say. Her letter answered so many things, cast their situation in a whole new light, and what's annoying is that he still isn't sure he should tell her that. "Look, I'm sorry," he starts. He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the wetness. "I'm sorry. What I said… about you being afraid. That crossed a line, and it was harsh. I shouldn't have said it."

Her expression softens. "No, but you were right."

"It was still overstepping."

"Yeah," she nods. "I know."

Another awkward moment passes before Ben clears his throat. "So the power went off at our building just as I left. We should get back and see if we need to report it to facilities. I'm hoping someone already has, but we should make sure."

"You didn't bring an umbrella, did you?"

Ben can't help his laugh as he gestures down to himself. "Does it look like I brought an umbrella?"

When she rolls her eyes at him, Ben thinks maybe they're okay again—whatever tenuous balance they have has been restored. "You look like you swam here."

"I _feel_ like I swam here. I was in a rush."

The sound she lets out is akin to a whine. "I hate rain. Unless I'm inside, with a book or something."

"That sounds perfect right now. A few pillows on the couch, a blanket, a book, coffee."

Rey gives him an odd look, but admits, "That does sound perfect. I wish teleportation was real... snap my fingers and be home, no rain involved."

"You know we're only delaying the inevitable, right?"

'Yeah," she sighs, seeming defeated.

She shrieks the moment they go out into the rain. Ben imagines her reaction is about what you'd get if you tossed a cat into a shower. She hisses swears he's never heard from her before, and he's _never_ felt rage from an Omega like the sort that rolls off her as she dashes along the sidewalk toward their apartment building. Rey is livid, and the hilarious part is that her anger is aimed at nature itself.

For his own safety, Ben doesn't laugh. He follows her and bites his mouth closed as she shrieks again outside their building, realizing she has to dig out her keys. She scowls at the door. "Stupid _goddamn rain_ , hate—"

Maybe it's unwise, but he puts a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. She whips around, baring her teeth. "Don't Alpha me while I'm trying to get inside!"

Ben swallows a laugh and starts worrying for his sanity when he realizes how hard he is.

She fishes the keys out and unlocks the building door, muttering the whole way to their apartment door. Once inside, Ben tries flipping switches, but the power's still out. A quick check of his email shows a message to everyone who lives on campus.

"I got an email," he announces, because Rey's still livid and dripping wet— _not_ in a good way. "Facilities knows about the power outage and they're working on it, but it might be a while."

"What's _a while?"_

He blinks when he sees she's headed toward her bedroom, fighting with articles of her dripping-wet clothes along the way as she struggles to yank them off.

"I'm not sure," Ben admits, trying not to stare as she gets down to a transparent tank-top just before ducking into her bedroom. He shivers, soaked even more so now that he's done that walk twice, and… "Am I imagining things, or is it freezing in here?"

Her voice is low, laced with rage, and he can just barely hear it from the entry. "It's cold. Very cold. Just let me get all this stuff off. I hate the feeling of wet clothes on me."

Ben's mind short-circuits as he realizes she's stripping off her clothes and hasn't bothered to shut her door. He rushes past her bedroom, averting his eyes both for politeness and fear for his own life, and gets to his own room, where he does the same. His clothes are dripping with more water than they'd contain after a wash-cycle, and he's quick to toss them in a plastic laundry basket to avoid puddles on the floor.

Even from his room he can hear Rey swearing. It sounds like she's shivering as she calls out, "Why is it so cold? "

"The heat's off, with the power." That, plus it's early April, so it may as well still be winter. "Not to be a stereotype, but can I give you something heavier to put on? Please? I have a lot of sweaters."

Nothing comes from her room while Ben towels off, messing his hair up as he tries to dry it. It's a blessing when he remembers he just did laundry, and thus his heavy, warm clothes have been cleaned. He throws on thick gray sweatpants, wool socks, and the hoodie that still smells like Rey before he grabs an oversized, thick black sweater for her and heads back toward her room.

Maybe it's silly since he's seen her naked—the memory of her walking out of her bedroom to find food mid-heat with slick dripping down her thighs is ingrained in his mind—but he still covers his eyes as he raps his knuckles on her open door. "Want a sweater?"

"What, you want more of your clothes to smell like me?" The annoyed tone she uses is undercut by the little shake in her voice. "Never mind. It's too cold. Yes, I want a sweater."

She grabs it from his hands and huffs. "You can look, it's fine. You've seen me a lot more naked than this."

Tentatively, he looks, and watches her tug his sweater over a deep purple sports bra. His eyes focus on the small compass that hangs at her chest, just before it's covered by his own sweater.

There are goosebumps raised all over her skin, but he's more taken by the freckles and by the compass that reminds him he's hers. His sweater falls to her mid-thigh, and Rey wraps her arms around herself, letting out a breath.

"That's better," she sighs, sounding less pissed off. "It's still cold, but _better."_

And maybe he's an idiot for suggesting it, but Ben still says, "I can keep you warm."

Rey stills, studying him for a moment. She nods slowly.

* * *

It's the sort of freezing that gets into your bones and doesn't let go. The kind where you press your hands to your own skin and it feels like ice, and you can hardly tell that's _your skin_ you're touching—the kind of cold that makes a hot shower feel like something's pelting you and stabbing into your skin. Normally it would take hours to warm up and feel normal and dry again, but in Ben's arms it takes minutes. There were, of course, a few unavoidable awkward moments of them determining the best way to do this, but at some point another full-body shiver went through her and she'd had enough—she grabbed his hand and pulled him to her bed.

Rey's always assumed an Alpha would be more commanding. More bossy. But Ben lets her position him how she wants, lets her determine how much they touch. It takes her time to get comfortable, but she ends up having him resting in her bed, his back propped up against her pillows, his arm cradling her while she nuzzles into his chest.

And _god_ the scent that comes off him. If scents could be warm, his would be.

"You're purring."

With her eyes closed and her face pressed into the warm fabric that covers his chest, she frowns. "Is that a problem? I thought that was something Alphas liked."

Ben coughs. "Uh. It _is_ something we like." He tugs her fluffy comforter up further around her shoulders and tucks it in around them. "Are you warm enough?"

"Getting there. When do you think the power will be back on?"

Every time he talks, she can feel his chest rumble. "Soon, since it's cold out. This has happened before. It's usually only a couple hours, at most."

This shouldn't feel so natural. It shouldn't feel so _right_ , the way his arm holds her so she's tucked into his side. She tries to distract herself from those thoughts, and from the soft rumbling sound coming from her.

"So... this probably wasn't what you expected when you found out you were getting a new roommate."

She feels his huff of laughter underneath the fingertips that rest on his chest. "No. I assumed it would be another Alpha, or maybe a Beta. I hadn't had a roommate in a while, not after the last one met his soulmate and moved in with her. I considered moving off-campus, but it's so close to work…" his voice quiets, and he adds, "I was also hoping I could wait until I meet my soulmate, and maybe we could pick a more permanent place together."

There's a little twinge of pain there, in his voice. A hint of sadness. It makes her curious, but she doesn't want to pry. "Never lived with an Omega?"

"Not unless you count the week I stayed with Rose and Hux, but I'm not sure I count that."

"Oh?"

When Rey glances up, she can see him cringe. "I'm very happy for them, but to me, Hux smells like a mix of chocolate and toothpaste." Something warm—she's not sure what—laces his voice when he murmurs, "Living with an Omega like you is very different."

Her cheeks flush. "I don't smell like chocolate-y toothpaste?"

Ben leans forward, burying his face in her still-damp hair, and inhales deeply. His breath turns shaky as he rests back against the pillows. "No."

"So what's it like?" she prods.

She doesn't expect much of a response. As far as she's been told, most Omegas smell like descriptions you can read on bottles of perfume or soaps—flowery, maybe with other soft fruity tones. But the longer Ben goes without replying, the more curious she gets. It's a struggle to pull herself from him, but she does, and sits next to him, waiting for an answer.

Ben's working his jaw in that distracting way of his. Finally, he says, "I'll tell you, if you do the same. What's mine like, to you?" His mouth tilts up. "I know I don't smell like pine trees."

With the way he's looking at her, it's like the temperature in the room has doubled. His eyes are wide and dark, and there's something, some curiosity, some amusement in them that gives her pause.

"Maybe…" she hesitates, and clears her throat. "Maybe it's not something we should talk about."

If he's surprised by her response, it doesn't show. His hand slides down to her side and squeezes gently. After a moment, he nods, and clicks his tongue. "It probably isn't."

They spend a minute staring at each other, neither daring to break the silent tension. Her gaze drops until she's watching her hand, rising and falling with his chest. His hand lands on hers, his thumb caressing one of her fingers.

"It's more like a feeling," he whispers. "Like reading my favorite book in front of a warm, crackling fire while it snows outside. Like sleeping in on a Sunday wrapped around someone I love."

Without looking him in the eyes, she stares at their hands and breathes, "My first foster parent was a woman I barely remember, but she used to make a spiced ginger cake. Whenever I smelled it baking, I knew it would be a good day, because if she was baking, that meant she was happy. It's like that. That ginger cake, and… and it's like a hug. The sort of hug that makes you feel like everything's going to be okay, and that you're safe. It's like spending a sleepy day hiding from the world, curled up in someone's arms."

Rey can't bring herself to look at him. Not after whatever she's admitted to. Her mind is reeling, spinning, panicking. Neither of them should smell this good to the other. She gnaws at the inside of her cheek until one of his fingers comes up under her chin, tilting her head so she has no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's something swimming in them she can't bring herself to address.

They're soft and stunned and _stunning_ and—

Ben's arm curls around her waist as he whispers, "And you don't think that means something?"

Of course it does. She knows it, he knows it, but as Rey stares at him, she doesn't know what explanation she could give, or what he's looking for her to say.

It means they're compatible, and could make each other blissfully happy… for a while, at least. Until his soulmate decides she's ready to meet him.

She swallows. "It doesn't mean anything."

His fingers slide over the back of her hand, soothing her despite how she keeps hurting him. "And how long are you going to keep telling yourself that, Rey?"

She lets out a breath. "At least a little bit longer."

For a long moment, his eyes scan her face. He nods slowly. "I can wait."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	9. Chapter 9

As April passes, they don't talk about it—about how natural it feels to be in each other's space, about how their hands intertwine when they watch movies together. They don't talk about how he carries her to bed when she falls asleep on him, and how she sleepily kisses him goodnight.

But Ben is desperate to talk about it. It's something that runs through his mind every day, every hour, and he can't help but worry that things would be different if he'd told her the truth. There's a chance she would have even been happy about it—though if he's being honest, Ben's convinced she'd be panicked and overwhelmed.

Every night, every morning, every damn _second_ he wishes he'd told her, Ben stops and reminds himself of one very important thing: Rey doesn't want to know. It's heart-breaking and painful and discouraging, but if she wanted to know, she could ask. With a single text, she could find out. She could ask him or tell him she's ready to meet or even just ready for a phone call, and then she'd know. Ben's not sure what's worse—the guilt he feels for lying, or the pain that sinks into his chest whenever he remembers he's only lying because she doesn't want to know him yet.

So they don't talk about it. They don't talk about how he's nearly admitted to being in love with her, both as Kylo and Ben. They don't talk about how Rey's rare goodnight kisses are soft and tender and filled with just as much longing as he feels. They don't talk about the long pauses that happen in their conversations, during which they stare at each other and smile like the fools they are.

They don't talk about any of it… until one afternoon, when Ben comes home early and finds a half-written letter, unsent and on top of a pile of papers Rey's probably in the middle of grading. He shouldn't snoop, but his eyes land on the paper, and he can't help but skim it before she comes back from her room.

* * *

> April 28th, 2019
> 
> Kylo,
> 
> I apologize in advance for how confusing this letter might be. There are things in my life that are new and unfamiliar and confusing. I don't know what to do or how to feel about any of it, and I'm starting to feel like I've never been more lost than I am right now. Yes, I'm scared, but it's more than that. I'm scared _and_ I don't know what I want. Not exactly.
> 
> I wish I could explain everything to you, because you've been exceptional at listening and giving me advice, and I appreciate all of it. I wish I could tell you everything, but that scares me, too. I'm afraid of hurting you and afraid of getting hurt myself, and honestly I think if I could pay someone to make all my life decisions for me, I would.
> 
> This probably isn't making any sense.
> 
> I wish I could be the soulmate you deserve and I wish I could be—
> 
> I wish a lot of things.
> 
> I wish I could read the last page of our book, but I can't, and I don't even know where we are in our story. I wish I could be on the same page as you, but I don't know how to be.
> 
> I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't even send this. I shouldn't. I just don't know what to say or what to do, and

* * *

Ben sucks in a breath and leaves the letter where it is, then walks into the kitchen. He leans against his kitchen counter, wipes a hand down his face. He needs to do something, and, if possible, he needs to put a stop to all these conflicted feelings she's dealing with.

But… how?

He takes a deep breath and takes out his phone, starting with a text. It's not a solution—far from it—but at the very least, he might be able to quell some of the guilt she's feeling.

I want to make something clear.   
The one thing I want from whatever we do or don’t have, is for you to be happy.    
hi. that… is kind of an odd text, but thank you.   
in some ways I am happy   
but if i'm being honest, in some ways I’m not. mostly I’m feeling lost.   
What can I do to help you be happy? Whether it’s with me or not. How can I make things better for you?   
i appreciate that you want to, but i don’t know. i wish i did.

Something heavy sinks in his chest like a stone. He gnaws at his lip, thinking it over, thinking about Rey and what he knows about her. There's no easy answer, no quick fix, no major thing he can do that won't make things more complicated. Nothing he can do that doesn't risk pushing her away.

When he hears her bedroom door open, and her sniffling, Ben shoves his phone in his pocket, then washes his hands and starts chopping an onion for the dinner he's making. Halfway into the onion, he spots her leaning against the kitchen entry with a contemplative expression. She's standing there in sweatpants and one of his black sweaters, stolen weeks ago when they did laundry together. She tucks her soft waves behind one ear as she watches him.

Ben clears his throat. "Hey. I'm making enough for two if you're hungry. You should eat."

Unless he's imagining it, she flinches. It's subtle, barely there, but he knows her well enough to catch it. Softly, she asks, "Why are you so nice to me?" Her voice wavers, even cracks around the edges as she talks. "Why are you so patient with me? Why—why do you care about me? Why would—"

He abandons dinner prep and interrupts her awful, ridiculous questions by pulling her into a hug. Her scent is distressed, but given her letter and her texts, that's hardly a surprise. She's rigid in his hold for a moment, but then she melts, nuzzling her face into him.

Ben kisses the top of her head. "Don't ask me things like that. I care about you, do I need a reason why? We could be here all night with me listing reasons."

Rey doesn't respond for a few minutes. She just lets him hold her, lets him calm her, and _god,_ he's so far in over his head, he doesn't know what to do. It feels like it's too late to tell her, and he's not convinced telling her would help.

So he just holds her and soothes a hand down her back, and whispers, "I care about you. If that means we're friends, or if it means we're more, I care about you, and that won't change."

She takes in a quiet breath, and slowly looks up at him.

"I don't think we're friends," she whispers.

Ben studies her expression, sees her trembling bottom lip and the terrified look in her eyes, and gently cups her face with both hands. "No," he murmurs. "No, I don't think we are, either."

Neither of them says anything. It's a thing they do too often—not saying the things that should be said. Rey's gaze drops to his mouth, and her hands slide up his chest, up to his shoulders, up to his face. Her fingers skim over his cheekbones, feather across his jawline, tangle in his hair, and Ben closes his eyes, relaxing as she touches him.

She's acting as though she's never touched him before, and maybe she never has, not while accepting the truth of whatever it is she's feeling.

His breathing stutters when he feels the warmth of her exhale against his mouth.

It starts off gently, a testing kiss despite how many they've already shared, and Ben holds back from deepening it or rushing any of it. It could last forever like this, just a simple pressing of mouth to mouth.

But then he feels the dampness of her fresh tears against his cheeks and the tightening of her fingers tugging at his hair, and he feels the way she trembles against him.

And maybe he doesn't know how to fix this. He doesn't know how to solve this problem, make her happy and fearless. He doesn't know how to tell her how much he loves her without scaring her away. He doesn't know how to convince her their story ends happily—because it does, it ends blissfully, heart-achingly happy, and he didn't need to read a damn thing to know that.

Maybe he doesn't know how to do any of it, but as her mouth presses to his, terrified and desperate, Ben knows _this_ is something he can do.

He can comfort her.

He leans into her, tilting his head as he holds her face. Slowly, he works his jaw, sliding his lips against hers over and over until he's dizzy with her. He turns them and backs her up until she's pressed to the counter. The kiss is wet with her tears—tears of relief or something else, Ben can't tell, but he kisses her anyway. It's only when her tears have dried and Ben needs air that he pulls away, mourning the loss of her mouth the moment they part.

Rey keeps her eyes closed for a minute. When they flutter open, she looks up at him, her gaze wide and stunned.

"So," she says softly. "Not friends."

He shakes his head. "Not friends."

"What are we, then?"

Clearly she doesn't know what a loaded question that is. Ben sidesteps it, not wanting to lie. "Is that a conversation you want to have? Because we can have it, if you want, but is it a conversation you're _ready_ to have?"

Rey hesitates. "Probably not," she admits. "Do you mind that? If we don't have that conversation? Not yet? I just… I know what this is, or at least what it could be, but no, I don't think I'm ready to put words to it."

At that, he smiles. "Can I still kiss you?"

Her expression softens into something grateful, and she nods. There's a little hope that wells in him when she does, because he thinks maybe if they take things slowly, she'll figure it out on her own.

Maybe.

* * *

The last few days of April and the first weeks of May pass in a flurry of rainstorms, students coming to her office hours asking for help or extra credit, and many, many moments where she finds herself thankful for Ben and his unlimited patience.

They kiss more freely now. Ben takes every opportunity he can to sweep her into a hold and kiss her, but there's so much tension brewing between them, it's bound to bubble over sooner, rather than later, which is nerve-wracking. It's not that she doesn't want to give in to it. She does, more than anything, but if that last bit of her restraint snaps, she's terrified she'll get lost in him and he'll change his mind, and she'll never find her way back to—

Finishing that thought scares her, too.

Rey redirects her attention to the giant room of students that sit in front of her. Professor Skywalker ducked out to get coffee a few minutes ago and left her to keep an eye on the room full of undergrads taking the class final. With any luck, he made the final easier than the midterms. A student in the third row sniffles, catching her attention. The guy looks like he's about to cry. She sighs, making another mental note to see if Professor Skywalker intends to curve the grade.

So far the group's behaved. No obvious cheating, no questions, no arguing about the wording on the exam. It's been straightforward for once, so Rey feels comfortable taking out her phone and checking her texts. Predictably, there's one waiting for her.

Good morning. Still proctoring exams?   
unfortunately, yes. have a question for me? i’m bored, so now’s a good time.   
I have one serious one and one normal one. Which one do you want first?   
easiest first, please.   
If you could change your designation, would you?   
interesting. life as a beta would be easier, right? less complicated? but, no, i don’t think i would   
though a heat-free existence sounds appealing   
I don’t think I would, either. It’s not the designation I take issue with, it’s the stereotypes.   
mmm agreed   
i could talk about this for hours, it’s a very interesting question   
but you had a second question. a serious one? rip the band-aid off. should I be scared?   
Actually, that’s part of the question. How are you doing? Have things gotten better?   
I don’t mean to make you feel guilty, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about what you said. About you feeling lost.   
oh. uh, i don’t know. i’m still confused. happy, i think. but confused.   
I like that you’re happy.   
If I can do anything to help you be happier, you’ll tell me?   
yeah, of course.   
thank you. i don’t know what else to say, but thank you for being so understanding   
but what about you? are you happy?

He doesn't text back right away, so she turns back to her computer with plans to check her email. Three more offers from Travelocity make her roll her eyes, but she can't bring herself to mark them as spam, so she resorts to scrolling through the Pinterest board Poe and Finn have set up as part of their wedding planning. They're going simple, with fall wedding, a small guest list, and rustic seasonal decorations. She's a little relieved that she won't be roped in to help plan and set up a massive event.

When one of the doors to the room opens, she glances up, hoping it's Professor Skywalker and not a student who's shown up to the final thirty minutes in—Professor Skywalker's exams are often the type to require every bit of time given.

Surprisingly, it's neither. _Ben_ stands there at the door, a lopsided grin on his face, and a travel mug in his hand, along with a small container.

Rey tilts her head, motioning for him to come up to the front of the room. She's not sure how he knew where she would be, but it's impossible to claim he's not a sight for sore eyes despite the fact that she saw him working away at something in their kitchen just this morning. It's only been a whole hour and a half.

She's a little ridiculous. Whatever it is—a crush, feelings, sexual attraction, something quite a bit deeper than all of that combined, _whatever_ —is making her a silly fool who can't help but smile when she sees him. _Friends_ isn't the word for what they are, but she doesn't know what the right word is.

They do laundry together (they're both paranoid enough to hang out by the machines while they run), and cook together (she watches while he cooks), and ignore the tv while they kiss lazily on their couch. Typical roommate stuff.

It takes him less than a minute to get to her, and he takes Professor Skywalker's seat, leaning over to hug her. Every time he touches her, it makes her heart skip a beat, and before he pulls away, he kisses her. It starts as something chaste, something more appropriate for their current setting, but then he smiles against her mouth as he lingers there, just a bit longer than he should.

His forehead presses to hers, and he whispers, "Hey. I won't stay long. I don't want to interrupt, but you didn't take coffee this morning, so I brought you some. And I made you something. I figured since I took the day off, it might be nice."

She pushes down the urge to tease him for being such a textbook Alpha, providing for her. The coffee is from home, made by his ridiculous fancy coffee-espresso-thing. It's much better than whatever she could pick up from the place Professor Skywalker's wandered off to, and knowing Ben, whatever baked good he's made her will be incredible.

When she opens the container, she doesn't notice the scent at first, because it's a little like the comforting, warm scent coming off him. But then she sees what's _in_ the container, and she has to remind herself not to cry in front of the entire class.

"Is this spiced ginger cake?"

"You said whenever you smelled it baking, you knew it'd be a good day," he smiles. "I wanted you to have a good day."

Unsure of what to say, she struggles not to tear up.

When he sees her staring at the container he's placed on the desk, his expression softens. "It's not a big deal, I promise. I'm just trying to butter you up."

"Oh? Why? Did you organize all my food again?" She sniffs, smiling at him. "No, wait. Let me guess. Did you toss my stuff out of the shower?"

Ben rolls his eyes. "That was _once,_ and nobody should be using a three-in-one. I stand by that decision."

"A three-in-one is convenient," she laughs quietly.

"It's unforgivable. Nothing will convince me that a single product can be used as body wash _and_ something that will condition hair, because—"

She groans. "Would you just tell me why I need buttering up? What have you done?"

"Ah. I came to ask a favor." He quiets, tapping his fingers on the desk like he's trying to figure out how to continue. "My mother called to remind me that I have a big family event coming up. My parents' thirtieth anniversary. They're throwing a party. Dinner, dancing… I'm getting the impression it's the wedding my mother wanted to have thirty years ago, minus the ceremony."

"And?"

"And I need a date. Or a friend. Either way. I love my family but they can be a lot to deal with and I was hoping you'd keep me company. It's next weekend on Saturday, at my family's place in Naboo. I'm leaving Friday night, coming back Sunday morning."

_Naboo._

"I've never been there," she admits. "Always wanted to go, though."

"You should come with me. My family might be difficult—at least sometimes—but Naboo is the most beautiful place I know. You'd like it, I think."

It's a lot to ask. There are a lot of implications behind it, a lot of unanswered questions. Will they be staying together? Will it be a date? How will he introduce her to his family?

Rey doesn't ask any of it.

"Okay," she murmurs, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth. "I'd love to."

* * *

Rey is antsy in the passenger's seat of the rented car as they leave the city late Friday night, a few hours after Ben gets out of work. Even while he pays attention to the road, he can tell she's bouncing her knee and fiddling with her hands, but it's not until she clicks through half a dozen songs looking for god knows what, that Ben glances over. "Are you sure you don't mind coming with me?" He says it as though she's doing him a huge favor—which she is—and not as though he's concerned with her current agitation, which is adding a sharpness to her usual calming scent. "I'll understand if you've changed your mind. I can drive you home."

She shakes her head, but doesn't speak.

Briefly, he reaches over to take her hand, and his concern deepens when she clutches it. There's a little tremor that goes through her. Ben pulls over to the side of the quiet road and turns to her, waiting for her to say something while he squeezes her hands in his.

"Sorry," she murmurs. "I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"Do you want me to bring you home?"

It's like torture, feeling how anxious she is. Slowly, he leans over the center console and pulls her into as good of a hug as he can give in a car. Rey sighs, and nuzzles into his shoulder. Her voice is muffled by his sweater when she admits, "No, it's nothing, I just… I haven't left the city before. I'm a little nervous."

She breathes him in, and Ben can feel the tension leaving her, even more so when he reaches up and feathers his thumb over the gland on her neck.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"This is helping." She stays in his arms for another minute, and it hits him, how much he wants to kiss her. And then he remembers he _can_ kiss her now.

They pull back at the same time, moving so closely and with such perfect timing that their noses brush, and Ben tilts his head, kissing her, cupping her face, _tasting_ her. He's like a moth drawn to a raging fire whenever she's around, and he kisses her until the anxious edge to her scent dissipates and unwinds into something subtle and calm. When he pulls away, Rey's eyes flick to his, and her breath goes shaky before she pulls the rest of the way back, sitting normally. There's a pink flush on her cheeks, and it takes him a moment of staring before he, too, sits back, and pulls out onto the road.

The rest of the drive passes uneventfully. Rey doesn't let go of his hand, her fingers skimming his skin as her scent slowly turns more intoxicating. They talk about how she's relieved the semester's over, and about how she's taking a bar-tending gig for the summer while she works on her graduate thesis. They play a game that involves one of them wishing for outlandish things and the other coming up with a monkey's paw for it, and Rey determines he's terrible at games.

Which he is. It's not something he'll argue. Still, it makes him wonder if she'll remember _Kylo_ is also terrible at games, and connect the dots. She doesn't. It makes him wonder if she's purposely avoiding the truth, or if she honestly hasn't noticed all the little signs.

By the time they arrive in Naboo, it's pitch black out and Rey's sleeping with her head pressed against the passenger's window in a way that suggests she'll have a sore neck when she wakes. Arriving late in the evening is inconvenient, but it's partly on purpose—the last thing he wants to deal with after a day of work and a drive out to Naboo is his parents asking questions about his "friend", especially when he's failed to explain he's brought an Omega he treats in a way that's more than _friendly_.

He's going to have a hell of a time explaining this to his mother, who keeps texting him to ask if Rey knows yet, but that's a problem for tomorrow.

Waking Rey isn't easy. She sleeps heavily when he's around, and even as he tries to wake her, she grumbles something nonsensical. He nudges her to a state of partial awakeness, but she sways on her feet the whole way into the house.

Threepio holds the front door open with a tired smile, and Ben feels a flash of guilt at the man staying up to wait for them.

"Benjamin," he greets, "So nice to see you."

Even late at night, the man's dressed in the business-appropriate attire Ben _knows_ his mother keeps insisting isn't a requirement.

"It's Ben, as I've been saying for years. And get some sleep, Threepio," he sighs, giving the man a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry you waited up for us."

At the word _us,_ the man raises an eyebrow at Rey, who's slouched against Ben's chest, trying to use him as a pillow. Ben can't help the quiet laugh at how she's drooling on him.

"I believe your companion needs rest," Threepio says politely. "Would you like help bringing your bags to your room?"

"No, that's—" Ben pauses. "Room? As in, not plural?"

Threepio nods once. "Your mother has the upstairs suite made up for you. She and your father are staying on the main floor. She believed you and your guest would be more comfortable with privacy."

"Of course she did," he sighs. It's his own fault. He never specified the need for two bedrooms, nor did he fail to mention he was bringing a woman with him. _Of course_ his mother was happy to assume they'd only need one room. She's been wanting to plan his wedding for years now. "That suite still has a couch, right?"

Threepio nods again.

He says goodnight, and slings Rey's overnight bag back over his shoulder. After debating the best way to either fully wake her or move her, Ben settles for scooping her up into his arms. She's warm and sleepy, and snuggles into his chest in a way he'll never get enough of. The walk to the upstairs suite is too short.

Moonlight streams in through a wall of windows—one of which opens out onto a private balcony overlooking the water. There's no need to turn on any lights with how the moon illuminates the massive bed made up in all stark white linens and three times the amount of pillows any normal human needs. That's where he puts Rey, gently resting her on one side. She lets out a soft sound, and wraps herself around a pillow, wrinkling her nose at it before falling back into a deep sleep. It must smell odd to her, because she mutters something in her sleep that sounds suspiciously like _ginger cake is better._

It's the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

He shakes some sense into himself and grabs his bag, heading into the en-suite with plans to take a long, hot shower. On the way, he glimpses the suite's couch and grimaces. There's no way he'll fit on it properly. It's the sort of couch that prioritizes visual appeal over comfort, and after spending months sleeping while wrapped in a blanket that _still_ smells like Rey, this couch is about as appealing as a dirt floor. With any luck, the shower will make him relax enough so the couch doesn't seem so bad.

The ensuite is as ornate as the rest of the house. Marble everything, shiny modern fixtures, a glass wall around a walk-in shower, a soaking tub with a hell of an ocean view. He wonders what Rey will say about it when she wakes up. Without a doubt, she'll have lots of questions about his family, and probably more questions about why his family assumed they would only need one bedroom.

Ben puts it out of his mind and strips, letting his clothes pool and bunch up on the floor, then steps into the shower, frowning at the wall of buttons. It looks more complicated to work the shower than it is to use his fanciest kitchen appliance. He turns toward the wall and studies it while frowning, determining that the buttons regulate water pressure and shower head settings. It's absurd for a vacation home, especially since this bathroom is used a few times a year at most, but once he figures it out, hot water streams down over him with perfect pressure, washing away the day.

Even with the relief of the hot water, he can't get his mind off her. Still, he tries, just for a moment. Tries to wipe his mind of anything and just leans back under the water, letting it soak his hair. It works long enough for him to get through a shampooing, but before he can move on to the conditioner, a knock at the bathroom door snaps him out of his much-needed mental break.

Her voice is muffled. "Ben? Are you in there? Can I come in?"

"I'm in the shower," Ben replies, a little confused. She must hear the water, but with a shrug, he adds, "You can come in if you want."

The door cracks open. Her voice is so soft, he barely hears it over the sound of the water. "Do you… do you mind if I join you?"

For a minute, he starts to wonder if he's more tired than he realized, because he must be either dreaming or hallucinating. He wipes soaked hair out of his face and blinks at her through the glass wall of the shower. She's still there. Waiting for an answer.

"Sure," he stammers. "Sure, come on in."

There's a chance he's losing his mind, because one of his first thoughts—after the realization that this means they'll be naked at the same time _in the same place_ —is that this means he'll get to make sure she properly conditions her hair. If he wasn't so busy wrapping his mind around the fact that she's about to start undressing, he might laugh at what an obsessive idiot he is.

He sees her unclasp the necklace she seems to wear every day. She turns and sets it gingerly in a little silver tray on the bathroom counter, like it's a treasured belonging, and then she undresses, probably not realizing he's watching her with rapt attention. She looks exhausted, both mentally and physically. His concern for her overtakes any thoughts of what they might be able to do in such a large shower, so when she walks over to the shower door, Ben thinks nothing of taking her hand and pulling her into a hug. There's no doubt in his mind that she needs one.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" she whispers. The side of her face is pressed to the front of his shoulder, and she closes her eyes as he moves them under the water. "I woke up and couldn't figure out where I was. I hope it's okay that I came in here."

"I don't mind at all."

"The bed smells weird."

Ben huffs a laugh. "I think you've gotten used to sleeping in my sweaters."

"Mm, probably."

She sighs and dips her head back under the water. The movement bares her throat to him, and his eyes flick down to the gland at the side of her neck. It's a little swollen—he looks at it enough, kisses and licks it enough to notice the change.

"You have another heat coming up, don't you? You're, what, a couple weeks off?"

Rey nods, not opening her eyes, and sighs as the water runs in rivulets down her body, over her collarbones and past small, pert rosy-tipped breasts he's desperate to get his mouth on. He swallows as his gaze follows the water. He's doubled up on blockers since needing an emergency dose, but it's not a permanent solution, and the odds of him staving off a rut again are slim.

Hesitantly, he asks, "Should I find a place to stay so you can have the apartment, or…"

"Or?" The word comes out as a whisper. Her eyes are still closed, her face relaxed as she reaches up to run her hands through her own hair, making sure it's thoroughly damp. She flushes as she asks, "What are my other options?"

Ben pauses, tilting his head. The memory of hearing her beg for him, beg for his knot, comes to mind.

"I think you know the answer to that," he murmurs. When she doesn't respond, he studies her, his throat bobbing as he stares. Slowly, he leans into her and licks the swollen, reddened patch at her neck, flicking over it with his tongue as her breath stutters. Her fingers comb through his wet hair, holding him in place, so he mouths over the spot, kissing it like he'd kiss her mouth. Against it, he whispers, "Why did you come in here? What do you want, Rey?"

His hands slide up until he's holding her with thumbs resting just below her breasts, his fingers spread out at her sides. Despite the hot water and all the steam, she shivers.

Slowly, she opens her eyes, and meets his gaze.

* * *

Not for the first time, Rey wonders why he had to be so handsome, so kind.She wonders why he had to smell like he does, why his skin had to feel so right under her fingertips, why his lips had to meld so expertly to hers. It's like the universe is taunting her in the form of the first person she could see herself falling in love with.

His nose slides up the length of her neck while steam fills the room. The way he holds her is grounding, reminding her this is real, and _yes,_ someone cares about her and wants to be with her.

"You're still holding on. So much fear," he mutters, his mouth kissing at the spot behind her ear. "Whatever you want, just tell me. You can have anything, I promise."

They're such sweet words. She wishes they were true, and even though they aren't, maybe she can pretend. At least for a night. She can pretend she's his, and he's hers, and there's nothing else complicating things. No guaranteed disaster of an ending for them.

So she closes her eyes and does the one thing she's been terrified to do; she tells him the truth.

"I want you to help me with my heat," she breathes. "And I want you to… be with me. That's what I want. Just for now. Until you meet her."

He stills. It seems like even his breathing stops. Then she feels him pull away, but she can't bring herself to open her eyes.

"Just for now?" he echoes, sounding maybe a little frustrated. "Rey, look at me."

Nervously, she opens her eyes and sees Ben working his mouth. The edges of his scent sharpen into something not quite angry, but maybe annoyed. Upset. His eyes trace over her face, and he huffs.

And then every ounce of that careful, caring patience he's shown her for months, snaps.

It happens so quickly Rey barely has time to register what's going on before she's lodged between his body and the shower wall, her mouth caught in a burning kiss. He bites and sucks at her mouth hungrily, and his jaw works, insistent and demanding, like he's trying to prove a point. Which, she realizes, he might be. A hand drags up over one of her breasts, up to hold her face so he can slide his lips over hers, over and over, without her interrupting or trying to take control. When she gasps, his tongue licks into her mouth, making her dizzy while she grips at his chest.

It's possessive and intense and _right,_ and it doesn't end until her lips feel swollen and they're both panting. Ben braces a hand on the wall behind her, still gripping her side with the other. In a rough voice he says, in no uncertain terms, "I can handle a lot, Rey. I can handle you rejecting me, or you being unsure, or you needing time, but what I _can't_ handle is you assuming we have an expiration date."

Rey catches her breath as she stares up at him, watching as he bites his mouth closed and shakes his head, like he's still frustrated, maybe even disappointed.

"If it's a matter of you not being sure what you want, I understand. But I need you to stop assuming that whatever this is, whatever we have, is doomed. You don't owe me commitment, you don't owe me anything, but all I'm asking is, right here, right now, in this moment, do you want me? Do you want _this?_ Us?"

While he waits for an answer, his fingers skim along her jawline. His hips rest against hers, which makes the hard cock pressed against her belly that much more obvious. She shivers at the feeling of her bare back against the shower wall.

The answer she gives comes as easily as breathing.

"Yes." Her voice comes out raspy. She clears her throat, and nods, saying honestly, "Yes, I want this."

"Tell me you're sure."

She sucks in a breath at his tone, and at the dark, desperate look in his eyes. "I'm sure."

Having never been with an Alpha, part of her expects him to pick her up and carry her off to the bed like some growling, animalistic man who—

It's a bit of a shock when he kneels.

* * *

As he stares up at her from the tiled shower floor, his hands slide up her toned thighs. Maybe it's the size of his hands, maybe it's just the usual physical distinction between their designations, but she looks so small in his grasp. Far from fragile, but small, and _his_ in a way no one else ever can be. He sees her hands struggling to grip at the wall behind her, sees her trying to ground herself, sees her searching for something to clutch at. Rey looks utterly shaken as he lifts one of her thighs over his shoulder, exposing her to him. His gaze drops to her cunt. There's a solid chance his sanity is hanging on by a piece of thread so thin it might be microscopic.

Ben doesn't have the self control to tease her. He's been waiting too long, gotten too impatient to kiss at her thighs, nip at her gently, work her up to it. He presses his mouth directly to her, feeling her shudder as he licks at her.

"Oh, _fuck,"_ she murmurs, her voice faint.

She's not even in heat, and the scent, the _taste,_ is overwhelming and intoxicating. Ben pauses and rests his forehead against her belly, trying to get control of himself. He barely recognizes his own voice with how rough it's become when he mutters, "Tell me when you need me to stop."

He doesn't wait for her to reply before he dives back in, weaving his tongue through her folds. His fingertips press into her thigh and her hip, squeezing her and holding her in place while he mouths at her clit. Someday, when he's less desperate for more, he'll go slow. Experiment. Tell her how perfect she is, how tight and wet she is. Tease her until she begs.

Right now there's not a chance in hell he's capable of that.

Ben loses track of time, even as her breath comes out in gasps, and as her fingers tangle in his hair, holding his face to her. Her heel presses into his back and her thighs shake, but Ben doesn't stop or lighten up. He nudges at her clit, strokes at her cunt with his tongue, squeezes her thighs so tightly he's sure he'll see bruises there in the morning. With a leg over his shoulder, she can't go far, can't move much, but Rey rolls her hips against him and whimpers. It's such a soft, needy sound. It makes him want to pin her down and keep going, just like this, until she can't handle more and begs for his knot instead.

Water streams down her body, and as he rolls her swollen clit between his lips, she brushes his hair back tenderly, stammering, "Ben, please, I—I need—"

She interrupts herself with a long moan when his tongue swirls over her, setting a steady pace that makes her shake and gasp. Rey goes rigid above him, muffling her cry against her fist.

Maybe she assumed he'd stop once she came, because she lets out a surprised yelp as he pushes his tongue back into her cunt, licking into her. The idea of _stopping_ seems ridiculous, even as she tries to wriggle away despite being pressed to a wall.

"Stop," she breathes, "Stop, I— I want—"

Pulling back is regrettable. He sits back on his heels, gingerly lifting her leg from his shoulder, and looks up at her. It takes his breath away, seeing her chest heaving, and seeing the pink blush that's spread over her body. Her gaze flicks over him, then drops to his lap.

If he wasn't so distracted, he'd grin at the way her eyes widen.

He watches her swallow and blush further.

"I uh… I…" she stops, and lets out a quiet laugh, shrugging. "I don't even know what I was going to say."

At that, Ben _does_ grin. He hums. "I don't usually get to see you so tongue-tied."

Her shoulders shake in silent laughter. She reaches out, grasping his shoulders, and uses him to balance herself on shaky legs as she pulls away from the wall. Slowly, and with his hands guiding her hips, she sinks to his lap, straddling his thighs.

"Hey," he whispers, pressing his forehead to hers.

Rey's mouth curls into a smile. She hooks her arms around his neck. "So, I'm just going to be honest and say I've never been with an Alpha and—" she glances down again, murmuring, "I didn't realize Alphas were so..."

He snorts. "We'll be fine. Do we need anything?"

"I'm on the blocker-birth control combo."

"Me, too."

For a moment, they stay like that. Just her in his arms, the surrounding air charged and heavy with steam from the shower. Ben reaches up and cups her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. The look she gives him is nervous, and _fuck,_ sometimes he forgets how young she is, and how scared she is by all of this. He's about to tell her they can wait when she whispers, "I'm glad it's you," just before lifting up on her knees. Rey grasps him in one hand, making him suck in a breath as she strokes him from base to tip.

And then she slides down on him, gripping him to a point that's dizzying. Her lips part like she's stunned, and he brushes a thumb over the freckles on her cheek while she squeezes her eyes shut. She bites her bottom lip and sinks all the way down onto him, then stills, letting out a shuddering breath. His grip on her side is probably harsh, but he's struggling not to thrust up into her, struggling not to collect her in his arms and bounce her on his lap.

He grits his teeth. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," she nods, her voice coming out a little strained. "Fuck, how does anyone take a knot?" Her eyes flutter open, and she gives him a grin. "I guess I'll find out in a couple weeks."

Ben smiles and leans in to kiss her. "The slick helps," he mumbles against her mouth.

She hums, nodding. Gripping his shoulders, she rolls her hips slowly, and he clutches at her, making an embarrassing choking sound. "You— _fuck_ you feel incredible," he grinds out.

He's caught by surprise when she catches him in a deep kiss. Her tongue slides in against his as she starts riding him, grasping at his shoulder for leverage.

It feels like he's going to melt into her. Anything he could say—any sweet nothings, any filthy things—they all dissolve from his mind and get replaced with a desperate, longing need to be hers, be claimed by her, be bitten by her. If she wasn't kissing him, he'd be begging, _begging_ for her bite, so it's probably a good thing that she works her jaw unhurriedly, not pulling away from his mouth for a second. Her breasts drag over his chest, her cunt squeezes him like she's trying to absorb him, and one of her hands buries into his soaked hair, holding him as close as she can manage.

Ben's fingers press into her hips as he thrusts up into her, faster and deeper, and she moans into his mouth and _shatters._ She pulses around him and pulls out of the kiss to cry out—she sobs her release into the crook of his neck.

Two thrusts later, he bites the skin of her shoulder, muffling his groan.

He can feel her heartbeat against his chest, can feel the way her breathing slowly goes back to normal. His fingers ghost down her spine, soothing her and comforting her, because if her scent is any indication, she's more than a little overwhelmed.

Ben isn't sure how long they stay there, holding each other on the floor of the shower.

By the time they move, the water's gone cold, but the way Rey looks at him is tender and breathtaking, and more than worth the frigid shower.

* * *

Sunlight streams in, warm on her bare arm that's folded over the massive white duvet. A larger, warmer arm is tucked just under hers, holding her pressed back into Ben's chest. Blinking awake, she slowly remembers the night before.

The strangest swell of panic rises in her chest. Not because they're in bed together, not even because of what they did, and not because of the unfamiliar environment. It takes Rey a moment to realize it, but the panic comes because it all feels so right. It feels _normal._ That's the stark, honest truth, and it might be the scariest thing she's felt in a while.

"Don't worry," he hushes, sounding sleepy. He tightens the arm slung around her middle, and his nose nuzzles behind her ear. "We're at one of my family's places, remember? In Naboo?"

Rey's not ready to explain _why_ she's freaking out, so she doesn't correct him. "Right. Did you sleep okay?"

His voice is thick from sleep, and it makes her shiver despite the heat coming off his skin. "Very well. Did you?" He pauses, and presses his mouth to the skin of her neck as he asks, "Are you okay? After everything? Last night?"

It still feels a little like a fever dream, but the oddest part is how easily the answer comes. "Yeah. I am."

"Good." He kisses down her neck, murmuring, "Do you want breakfast? I think my family will be awake by now, so I'm sure they've got food ready."

No. She's not ready to leave _this._ Rey scoots closer, getting further under the blankets until her head is tucked under his chin, and they just… stay there. It's hot, but the comfortable sort of hot that's not sweaty or sticky. It's safe. _He_ is safe. Ten minutes, then twenty pass, and all they do is rest there with her in his arms. They bask in each other's warmth.

Ben presses a kiss to the top of her head. "Are you purring, or is that your stomach?"

"Both, I think."

There's a soft huff of laughter from behind her. "Come on, let's get breakfast. My family's probably wondering why we're not up yet. We can come back and nap later if you're still tired."

But she's not tired. She just doesn't want to leave his arms... but that feels like too much to admit, so she turns back to smile at him instead. "Okay. Sure."

And god, the grin he gives her is breathtaking. His long hair is messed up from sleep, curled oddly on one side where his hair dried with his head resting on a pillow. It's sweet, seeing him like this. His smile softens under her gaze. "Everything okay?"

There's so much she could tell him. So much she could say. She could spend all day telling him nobody's ever made her feel like this, nobody's ever made her feel _known_ and _seen_ —not like he does—and nobody's ever made her start wondering if maybe soulmates, the true romantic ones from stories, might be real.

She could tell him that if _he_ had been deemed her soulmate, she'd be a believer, because this… whatever this is, it feels so unknown and so unreal that the closest analogy she has comes from fairy tales.

None of the words come out.

The look Ben gives her is curious. _Too_ curious, and all those words are right at the tip of her tongue, so she gives him another quick smile and climbs out of bed. "Do I need to dress up for breakfast, or are pajamas okay?"

Ben laughs. "Pajamas are fine. My parents might already be dressed, but we don't need to be. They're morning people and they have things to do all day. I think my mother mentioned that they'll be busy working with the event planner, but we don't need to be ready for the party until this afternoon. I think it starts at 4?"

"I think I caught about half of that," she admits. "Coffee is a _must_ before you start tossing logistics at me."

"Coffee? I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"Good," she sighs. "Because—"

Rey stops mid-sentence when she happens to glance out the window. She's halfway to putting on yoga pants and finishes pulling them up to her hips in a trance.

"Oh my god," she murmurs.

"Is something wrong?"

She can barely muster up a whisper as she walks to the window. "Is that the ocean?" Ben doesn't reply, but she continues, "I—I mean, I know Naboo's on the coast, I just didn't realize we would be right on the ocean. But that's it, isn't it? That's the ocean."

She's stunned as she stares at the way the sun casts light out onto the water and at the way the waves wash up onto the picture-perfect sandy beach. She doesn't even startle when Ben comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her middle.

"It is," he says quietly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Beautiful, right?"

"Yeah," she breathes. "I've never actually seen it. This might sound ridiculous, but I always had this idea of what it would be like, and I assumed real life wouldn't live up to expectations." Softly, she adds, "I think I do that with a lot of things."

Ben presses his mouth to her shoulder, and his words come out muffled against her skin. "That's not ridiculous."

The words slip from her before they register in her mind. "I can't believe you brought me to the ocean."

When he sighs, his breath fans out over her shoulder and neck. Ben turns his head and mumbles the words into the side of her head, just before kissing her there.

"I'd bring you anywhere."


	10. Chapter 10

Rey's head is still spinning when they leave the upstairs suite. They pause at the door before they exit so Ben can press her to it, kissing her, savoring it as though he doesn't expect he'll get another chance to kiss her for a while. As far as she's concerned, he can kiss her whenever he'd like.

It seems they have to leave the room eventually, though.

Somehow, the bedroom Ben's parents have them staying in isn't the most beautiful part of the house. If it can be called a house; it seems like more of a manor. Maybe an estate? She's not really sure, but it's incredible.

Gripping Ben's hand, she follows him down a grand flight of stairs. The wood under her socks is slippery, but he keeps her steady.

"You're sure they won't mind us being in pajamas?"

It feels odd, being nervous to meet his parents, and the more she thinks about it, the more she can't help but wonder if they'll dislike the idea of him being with someone who isn't his soulmate. Ben hasn't discussed his family much, but plenty of families—especially the conservative, wealthy ones—tend to disapprove of serious relationships, pre-soulmate.

Ben snorts. "They're just going to be happy they got me here. I don't visit much." He hesitates at the bottom of the stairs, tugging her into his arms. His brow furrows at her tight smile, and he gives a little huff of laughter. "Hey, they're going to love you. That's what you're worrying about, isn't it?" He sounds a little surprised as he asks, "You… want them to like you?"

"Maybe," she mutters. There are some implications there that she doesn't address. Ones that make her cheeks heat, but he gives her a slow smile and he leans down for another kiss.

"They're going to love you," he promises, mumbling the words against her mouth. Another peck and he pulls back, shaking his head at her. His eyes roam over her face before he adds, "It's impossible not to."

And then he lets go of her and keeps walking, as though he hasn't just said something that seems massive. Rey stops, processing and replaying his words.

His voice snaps her out of it. He's gotten half way down the hall. "Come on." He nods toward the room he's about to walk into. "Breakfast is waiting."

"Right," she breathes. "Right. Yeah, breakfast."

She catches up to him, and they turn a corner into a massive kitchen. Bright, clean white cabinets and counter tops are lit with fancy artistic lights that hang from a coffered ceiling. The only part of it that isn't stark white is the cobalt blue tile back-splash, and it's all so _much._ Why anyone needs three sinks and multiple ovens, Rey's not sure, but at least she's starting to understand Ben's obsession with kitchen gadgets.

She comes to a screeching halt when she notices the woman sitting at the kitchen's bar, staring at her with a bemused expression.

" _Leia?"_

Ben turns to her, looking confused, but Professor Skywalker's sister only grins and climbs off her seat to greet them. "Rey! I was hoping when my son mentioned bringing someone that he meant you." To the surprise of both her and clearly Ben, Leia comes close and hugs her. She's warm and welcoming, even in an intimidating gray pantsuit, and holds her in a hug longer than Rey would expect. "So nice to see you again." She pulls back and gestures to the man by the fridge, who looks as confused as Rey feels. "You know my brother Luke, of course."

She does. She knows Professor Skywalker, but she's never seen him in a flannel robe and slippers, with his hair sticking out in a few places.

"And now you can meet my husband," Leia continues, smiling as though none of them have reason to be thoroughly confused. She nods back to the man who's sitting at the bar. He, too, looks like he's not in on the big secret, but when his eyes land on where her hand is still ensconced in Ben's, the man gives her a boyish grin and a nod. "That's Han," Leia explains.

Everyone's quiet for a moment until Professor Skywalker gives an uncomfortable, "Hi, Rey. I had no idea you knew my nephew."

"Uh… since when do you know my family?" Ben asks uneasily.

"I'm a TA for your uncle's class," she explains, still caught up in the weirdest coincidence she's had yet to experience. "Professor Skywalker's also my adviser."

Leia laughs. "Dear, you're part of the family now, you can call him Luke."

If Rey's not mistaken, every single one of them freezes at what Leia's just said. Professor Skywalker's the first one to break the tense silence. "What does _that_ mean?"

"Well, I suppose it's not official, I don't see any rings…" Leia frowns at that, shooting her son a _look_ that leaves Rey utterly bewildered. "Well, rings or not, she may as well be family, don't you think?" Leia catches Rey's hand and squeezes it. "I told you it would be a happy coincidence!"

Rey's a second from asking when Leia lost her mind when Han clears his throat. "Hey, sweetheart, why don't you explain to the room what you're talking about. Some of us still haven't had coffee. A little clarification, maybe?"

Leia rolls her eyes. "You never listen to me, you old fool. I told you our son got his soulmate results. I told you that—I even told you about her, don't you remember? Rey! That girl I met for lunch? Your future daughter-in-law?"

At that, Ben makes a choked sound. Next to her, he's frozen in place, looking wide-eyed in unprecedented horror, so oddly, it's possible she's the calmer of the two of them.

Rey lets out a stilted laugh. "Oh, that. Right. Ha. Uh, would you give us a minute, Leia? Just a random question for my—uh—for Ben. Anyway." She doesn't bother waiting for a reply and pulls him with her as she leaves the room through the same doorway they came in through. Opening the first door she finds, Rey shoves him in and follows him, closing the door behind them. It turns out to be a walk-in laundry room with machines on one side and shelving on the other, stacked high with clean bedding and towels.

All of it happens within the span of a minute, and when his scent spikes with panic it makes her head spin. Not in a good way. Ben starts pacing the room. It only takes him two steps to span the small space, so it's a bit more like he's walking in circles. He stops for a moment, opens his mouth to say something, then shakes his head and goes back to pacing.

"I—I can explain," he stammers. "I can, I swear, I just—"

Rey sighs, leaning against the door. "It's okay, I think I know what happened."

At that, Ben stops. He turns to her, tilting his head. "You do?" he asks slowly. "What do you think happened?"

"It was a while ago, but I had lunch with your mother," Rey explains, trying to stay calm for him. It's weird seeing him so freaked out. "Professor Skywalker set it up so I could talk with her about unusual soulmate pairs, and she recognized your scent on me. I happened to mention I hadn't met my soulmate, and she made some comment about how it would be a happy coincidence if you—" She pauses, and lets her gaze drop to the floor. "If _you_ were my soulmate," she finishes quietly. "I'm not sure what made her make that leap, but since I showed up here with you, maybe she assumed."

It doesn't make a ton of sense, but maybe the fact that Ben brought her to a family event as a date was enough to make Leia assume?

For a long moment, Ben stares at her as though he's trying to decide something. Tentatively, he nods. "Oh. Okay. Why don't I go talk to them and clear things up?"

"That'd be good," she murmurs, looking anywhere but at him. It sucks, the reminder than she's not his and he's not hers. "I think I'm going to stay here for a few minutes. Collect my thoughts, I guess? Maybe you could talk to them while I do?"

"Sure. I'll clear everything up."

There's a sinking feeling inside her. This whole time she's been with him—not just _with_ him, but the whole time they've been circling around each other, she's been thinking of Kylo as the only person who could be hurt by it if she chooses to be with Ben. But the reality is, whoever _she_ is—Ben's soulmate—she's the one who should be here getting to know this family. She's the one who should be waking up next to Ben. She's the one who should be blushing every time he pulls her aside for a tender kiss.

None of this is for her.

* * *

As he leaves Rey in the laundry room, Ben gets back to the kitchen, interrupting the conversation his family's fallen into by blurting, "She doesn't know yet."

His mother frowns at him. "What do you mean, she doesn't know yet? Know what?"

"That we're soulmates," he answers, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Rey hasn't left the laundry room yet. "She doesn't know. As far as she's concerned we're just roommates and… um. Well."

"You're together, but you haven't _told her?"_ his mother hisses. "Benny, that's terrible."

Ben looks at her in disbelief. "How? How, exactly, is me respecting her wishes terrible? She said she's not ready to know yet."

At that, his mother quiets. "Oh," she sighs. "That's… tricky." There's a rather concerning twinkle that grows in her eyes, along with a little grin. "Give me the weekend."

"Sweetheart, stop meddling," his father scolds. He shakes his head, giving Ben a sympathetic look as he sips at his coffee. "Things will happen when they happen. Let the kids figure it out for themselves. Be a little patient."

There's a solid chance his father is the only sane one in the room. His mother gives another tired sigh, and a shrug as if to say _if I must,_ and then Ben hears the laundry room door open in the hallway. Quickly, he says in a hush, "Just don't mention anything about soulmates, okay?"

At least one set of eyes rolls at him, and his uncle mutters something he doesn't catch, but they all smile when Rey walks in. It doesn't take noticing her scent to know she's anxious, and maybe sad, but he greets her with a half-smile and a kiss to her forehead. The tension in the room starts to evaporate.

It's surprising how quickly she adjusts. Just a few minutes later and Ben's leaning against the counter, watching her interact with his family with ease, and he wonders how they've lived together for months without him knowing any of this—without him realizing she's one of his uncle's grad students, without him finding out about her study of choice.

He taps his fingers on the counter behind him to an inane beat.

 _Soulmates_.

Now that he knows what she studies, there's a weird amount of irony there. Rey—the woman who's too afraid to meet her own soulmate, who she insists is kind and wonderful (Ben's not sure how he gave this impression, but he's thankful for it)—studies soulmates at a graduate level. Of course the study doesn't require wholehearted belief, but it's still ironic.

It's odd seeing her laugh at some joke his dad's made and chat with his mother about her thesis. He stands there, silent, as his father explains his soulmate is another man, another Beta, his lifelong best friend, lovingly nicknamed Chewie. _Uncle_ Chewie, to Ben. Being born to a family that includes two platonic soulmate pairs is highly unusual. Maybe that's why his mother is so enthusiastic about his undoubtedly non-platonic pairing.

Maybe that's why his mother beams when she notices Rey grinning at him and waving him over to get breakfast.

She fits in. She fits in with his crazy family, and if he needed any additional proof that she's _his_ , that would be it.

Just as she crashed into his life, Rey crashes into him mid-thought. She slips on the hardwood floor in her socks and collides into him. "Sorry!" she laughs. "I came over to see why you haven't gotten breakfast. Your mother keeps trying to feed me pancakes."

Wrapping his arms around her and grinning is the most natural reaction in the world. Rey glances up at him, her smile dropping into something more serious, more thoughtful, and her fingers splay over his chest. He could kiss her. It would be so easy, so natural, to lean down and press his mouth to hers, and it still surprises him that he can. He starts to, starts to lean down, just enough so those hazel eyes widen.

"Ben, stop flirting and come get something to eat," his uncle teases. "Caterers are going to be here soon and they're going to take over, so if you don't eat now, you'll be waiting until the party."

He ignores his uncle, leaning down just enough to slide his nose against Rey's before his mother chimes in. "Benny, come get breakfast."

The corner of Rey's mouth quirks. "Benny?"

His cheeks burn. "Don't you dare."

"Aw, but _Benny."_ A wide grin splits across her face, and she pulls out of his arms, continuing to tease, "Are you coming to get breakfast, _Benny?"_

Ben rolls his eyes, and she gives him this look—it's undefinable, but she's looked at him like this before. There's hint of fear there, but it's overwhelmingly something else as she tugs at his hand again.

And because she's _her_ , he follows her like the lovesick idiot he is.

The thing is, there's a reason Ben doesn't visit much. He hasn't explained this to Rey, not in clear terms, but it's probably obvious within moments of him interacting with his family. They're kind people—that's not something he'll ever argue. Ben's just not convinced they get him. Everything's a problem they can fix, and not a problem they can simply listen to and understand.

He was an undergrad, struggling under the mental strain of a full course load and spiraling self-doubt. _Maybe he needs a tutor._ He wasn't sure about applying to a Master's program. _Maybe he should come home and take a break._ He doesn't love his job. _Here's a new one_.

It's all so easy. Everything has a simple fix, all tied up in the neat little solution of him coming home, him taking up the family business. And it _would_ be easy. But easy isn't the point. Easy things, as Ben has come to learn, are often not worth doing. The harder things—the things he needs to put time and effort into cultivating, like his once-strained and now-strong friendship with Rose—are the things he cherishes.

His family doesn't seem to understand, though. They love him, of that he has no doubt, but they don't _know_ him.

Rey figures it out within minutes. 

All it takes is his mother sighing at him slipping up over breakfast and complaining about work, something he avoids doing around them for this very reason. His mother says, "Benny, I've told you for years, there's a corner office waiting for you. I don't know why you complain on and on when you can come work with us."

On his way out of the kitchen to go shower, his uncle calls back a warning, "Leia, don't start. Not today."

For the first time, Ben sees Rey frown at his mother. Carefully, and politely, she says, "Maybe he would rather..." She shrugs, "Forge his own path?"

His mother scoffs. It's quiet and subtle, possibly even playful, but he doesn't miss it, and neither does Rey.

"This is our thing," his mother explains. "He complains about work, I try to convince him to come work for me. I still think he'll come around. RebelCorp is our family legacy. Someday I'll retire, and if he wants it, it'll all be his. I'd like to get him used to running things before then. It's good work." His mother looks to him. "I can promise higher pay and better benefits. If you're unhappy, why not swap over to a better option?"

"Who says it's any better?" Rey asks, a little bluntly. At his mother's surprised expression, and his father's amused grin, she continues, "I mean no offense, but to me it sounds like you're just trying to get him to do what you want. Have you asked him what _he_ wants?"

The urge to kiss her doubles. Maybe quadruples. He's long accepted this as his mother's way of showing affection. She means well, and Ben has no doubt that if he expressed honest annoyance, she'd stop. Still, seeing someone argue against it on his behalf is heartening.

His mother blinks. She's silent for a moment, and then she turns to him. "I like her."

"Me, too," Ben murmurs.

Rey looks between them, seeming confused, but Ben's only explanation is roping an arm around her waist and leaving an appreciative kiss on her forehead. The blush that grows over her cheeks is unmistakable.

His father breaks the quiet, brief peace that settles over the kitchen. "So, what are you kids doing today, before the party? We hired people to set up, so you're not on the hook for helping."

Hearing that is a pleasant surprise. He glances down at Rey.

She hums. "I think I saw a tub upstairs. I wouldn't mind relaxing this morning. I've got some non-textbook reading to catch up on."

He cracks a smile. "What, you didn't have time to steal another one before we left?" Rey rolls her eyes at him, and he laughs, adding, "Relaxing wouldn't be bad. Especially if I'm going to be made to socialize later. I've got a book I've been wanting to start."

"Mm, the party. That reminds me," his mother chimes in. "I left your outfits upstairs, in the closet of the room you're in." She smiles at Rey, a little too mischievously for his taste, and says, "I had to guess your dress size, but I believe I did well."

"Oh. That's a relief," Rey sighs, looking genuinely glad. "I was starting to think the dress I brought might be too casual."

"Wear whatever you'd like, of course. There's no real dress code," his mother says kindly. "We're just glad you're here, and there'll be no hard feelings if you wear your own, but at least take a look at what I got you. Whether you choose to wear it tonight or not, it's yours. It may come in handy in the future."

Ben can only guess what that might mean.

* * *

The tub in the bathroom in their suite is a massive soaking tub that overlooks the ocean. It's lavish and maybe a little absurd for a vacation home, but as Rey relaxes in the steaming hot water, covered in a thick layer of lavender-scented bubbles, she can't bring herself to complain. With a sigh, she rests her head back against the little terry cloth-covered pillow behind her. Her eyes wander.

Rather than the amazing view she could be gazing at, her eyes focus on the compass she hung from a handle on the bathroom vanity as she was undressing. The midday sunlight streaming into the room catches on it, and she sighs again as she sees it.

Part of her wants to reach out to Kylo, maybe tell him everything. It would probably be the right thing to do, because he'll always be a part of her life, and whatever they are or aren't to each other, he deserves honesty.

The compass has become her favorite belonging. Certainly her most soothing belonging, save for her favorite sweater of Ben's, if that can be counted as _hers._ She wears the necklace every day, even to the point where she'll turn around and go back into the apartment to get it if she gets halfway out of the building and realizes she's forgotten it.

_It's meant to guide you home, which is… me, I hope. Or, maybe it might be me in the future._

Maybe it should feel wrong to keep wearing it. Maybe it's terrible of her, selfish, even, to keep it at all, especially if—

"Hey," Ben interrupts, poking his head into the bathroom. "Want company?"

She nods, and watches as he smiles, and then undresses. Of course, she saw him bare the night before, in the shower, but her mouth still goes dry at the view of hard planes of muscle and alabaster skin.

Ben's grin grows a little when he catches her staring. "You're not subtle. Scoot forward, I can sit behind you."

"Who said I was trying to be subtle?" she teases, but it's half-hearted. She's still a bit too focused on the compass, and on all the questions swirling around in her mind.

He climbs in behind her, moving slowly so the water won't slosh over the sides, and once he's sitting, she leans back and lets him pull her into his lap. Turning to the side, Rey rests her head against his chest, sighing with the warmth of the water combined with his arms wrapped around her.

Ben kisses her temple. "What's bothering you?"

There's no point in lying to him, and she finds she doesn't want to. Rey nods to the compass hanging from the vanity. "Kylo gave me that. It's…" She hesitates, biting at the inside of her mouth, and says uneasily, "He said it's meant to guide me home. I'm starting to feel guilty about wearing it."

Ben hums. "But did he ever specify where home should be?"

"No, not exactly," she admits. "He said he hoped it would be him in the future, but no. It's just meant to guide me home."

One of his hands slides up and down her side, skimming at the edge of her breast. It's enough to make her shiver even when surrounded by warmth. "I think home can be a lot of things," Ben says carefully. "It _could_ be a soulmate, but I think the definition of _home_ depends on who you ask."

Rey nods. It doesn't change how she's feeling, but it's placating, at least. She nuzzles into his chest, finding it's difficult to feel anything but safe or content while in his arms. Quietly, she asks, "What's home, to you?"

He doesn't respond for a long moment, but then a hand comes up to cup her chin, and he tilts her face up so she's looking at him. His mouth presses to hers.

His words are murmured between kisses.

"You. You're my home."

She pulls back to stare at him, but before she can reply, he cups her face in both hands and kisses her again. He doesn't stop until the water's gone cold.

* * *

Her mind is still reeling from Ben's admission almost an hour later, as they're dressing for the party.

Trying to collect her thoughts, Rey focuses on the dress Leia's left her.

It's a wedding gown.

Rey has no doubt in her mind as she stares at the dress, that Leia has intentionally given her a wedding gown. It's a simple one, something that could probably be excused as a formal-ish white summer dress, but she has a strong feeling that it wasn't intended as a summer dress.

She's still dripping from the longest and most luxurious bath of her life, a thick white towel wrapped around her, and she just stares. Honestly, bless whoever Ben's soulmate is, because if the two of them end up together, that woman will have one hell of a mother-in-law. Emphasis on the _hell_.

Rey ignores the deeply painful twinge she feels at the mention of his soulmate and moves on.

Except she doesn't move on. She should, but lately there are an awful lot of things she _should_ do and doesn't.

Not for the first time, Rey finds herself wondering what the woman is like. Ben hasn't said much. It's an awkward thing for them to discuss. Whoever she is, she must be complementary to him—soulmates often are. She's probably beautiful, maybe athletic. Someone he can cook with. Someone who won't argue with his family, and who won't antagonize him whenever they get the chance. Probably an Omega who isn't nervous about the idea of being with an Alpha. Someone who has her whole life planned out. Someone who isn't so afraid.

Rey stares at the dress not meant for her.

_You. You're my home._

It's like she can't breathe.

The scariest part is that she wishes it _was_ meant for her. His sweet words, his love, this dress, this family… she wishes it was hers.

* * *

The sun sets over the water in hues of violet and cobalt, and somehow, Rey's more beautiful than any of it. He can't pull his eyes from her. People have been trying to get his attention all night, either to ask what he's been up to or simply to try to suck up to someone related to _the_ Leia Organa, but anyone trying to get his attention would be better served trying to have a conversation with a particularly introverted rock.

For some reason, she wore the dress—the one he already had a long talk with his mother about. Despite being frustrated with how his mother did something to upset Rey, he can't deny how gorgeous she looks. The dress is a creamy white against her tanned and freckled skin. The fitted bodice has lace and rises almost to her neck, leaving her arms bare. The skirt starts from her waist, fluttering down and swishing every time she walks.

And she's walking toward _him._

At the edge of the dance floor that's been set up on the large patio outside his family's summer home, a live band switches from something lively to a song that's slow and sweet, just in time. He continues ignoring the older man next to him, the stranger that's been droning on about god knows what, and he steps toward Rey, intercepting her before she can get to him.

Her mouth opens in surprise, and her lips turn up into a smile, one that's wide and beautiful and _his,_ because he's watched her for months and this smile is one she only gives him.

Maybe it's foolish, the way he pulls her onto the dance floor and into his arms. Maybe it's foolish, whatever they're doing, whatever she won't admit to, and maybe he's just setting himself up to have her get furious with him when she finds out. Still, they sway to the music, and he forgets everyone else, and hopes she's forgetting her fears.

"Ben?" she whispers. Her hand slides up to rest on his as he holds her face. Her eyes are a little wet. "What is this?"

It's a hell of a question.

He leans in, pressing his forehead to hers. "What do you want it to be?"

Rey takes in a slow breath, and answers, "I have no idea."

"I bet that's not true. But if it is, I can wait until you figure it out."

Her eyes flick up to his as she returns a little half-smile. "You seem willing to do an awful lot of waiting for me."

At that, Ben huffs a laugh. "You have no idea."

She gives him a curious look, but doesn't comment. She only leans up on her toes and meets him for another kiss, one that confirms that she is very much worth waiting for.

* * *

The party is still in full swing when Ben tugs at her hand and pulls her off the dance floor. He seems to want to leave, and it's just as well—Professor Skywalker has attempted awkward small talk about her thesis, Ben's uncle Chewie has told her _three_ embarrassing stories about Ben (one of which included a young teen Ben almost crashing his father's beloved car into a mailbox), and Leia… well. Leia is lovely, and Rey very much wants to avoid her and her tendencies to plan weddings.

As far as parties go, Rey's had her fill of this one, and she doesn't mind when Ben snags a large bottle of champagne on their way off the giant patio. Her heels prove mostly useless on the sandy beach, so she pulls them off and follows him while barefoot. The further they get from the party, the more he seems to relax, and after a few minutes of walking, he stops at a small private part of the shore, surrounded in part by bushes.

"I left a blanket out here," he explains, using the flashlight from his phone to find where it's rolled up under one of the bushes.

It's the sort of blanket people would use for a picnic. She watches him spread it on the sand and sit, and she realizes he planned this. Smiling softly, she sits down next to him, letting her feet stay on the sand in front of her while her dress billows around her calves. The sand is warm and soft, dry except for where the waves wash up on it. Ocean water pools at her feet, taking granules of sand with it each time it washes back out. The air is fresh and a little salty, crisper than any air she's ever tasted.

Rey looks out into the distance, staring out at where the dark sky kisses the water. It's overwhelming. She doesn't know how to feel about any of it—the sand, the air, the water that reflects the moonlight like a sea of dark sparkling jewels. It's everything she expected, and so much more.

She closes her eyes, taking a breath in through her nose. If there's such a thing as finding true peace, this must come close to it. She wraps her arms around her bent knees, falling into something akin to meditation. It might be ten minutes, or it might be an hour, but she could listen to the soft crash of the waves for a lifetime.

"This is my favorite spot," he admits. "When I was a little kid, my parents were still working through the awkwardness of my mom and uncle being soulmates. They fought sometimes, and I'd come out here."

She stays quiet, perching her chin on her knees, and while he's looking out at the water, she studies him. The moonlight lights his face, casting a glowy hue onto pale skin. It shines in his eyes and illuminates the bits of brown in his dark hair. He's beautiful.

Rey blinks in surprise when he turns and catches her staring. The corner of his lips quirk up. "So, you study soulmates? I guess I should have guessed that from the textbooks. Can I ask what made you pick it?"

"Oh. I wasn't sure what to study at first," she shrugs. "I guess that's normal. Most people change majors once or twice. I got my basic undergrad requirements out of the way, and… I don't know, it seemed like soulmates were the _thing_ everyone but me understood. And it's funny, because I've been studying them for years now, and I still don't think I understand. I get the theories, the cultural implications, the biological factors, but I still don't know if I _get_ it."

Ben hums, nodding. "Kind of like speaking English fluently, knowing the rules of the language in and out, and still not completely understanding some poetry." He nudges her shoulder with his, and asks, "Okay, so what _are_ soulmates? If you had to give a single-sentence answer."

"You're asking me to summarize five years of—"

"No, no," he interrupts, laughing. "I mean, to you. If you had to give a gut response, no matter how technically incorrect it might be. What are soulmates, in your opinion?"

Rey winces. "My first instinct is to say _bullshit._ I know that's not true, but when I think of soulmates, my mind jumps to the idea that everyone assumes soulmates are romantic, which I think is… bullshit."

"So you don't think you could fall in love with your soulmate?"

Before she can think through her words and put an immediate stop to them, Rey replies, "If there was some grand design, some guiding force, some absolute biological truth that determined he would be the be-all-end-all love of my life, I wouldn't feel this way about y—"

Rey bites her mouth closed when she starts to say it, but it's too late.

He looks over at her, surprised. After a long moment, he replies, "I think soulmates are the people who challenge you. They make you crazy, tell you when you're wrong, make you open your eyes and see the world differently."

While she stares at him, waiting for him to continue, his hand lands on hers. His fingers smooth over the back of her hand.

In a whisper, he adds, "I don't think they complete you—that never sat right with me. I don't think anyone is half a person before they meet their soulmate, but I _do_ think everyone's a little lost. I think your soulmate helps you find yourself. They help you figure out who you are, and who you want to be."

Ben's eyes flick to hers, and he tilts his head. He looks like he's about to say something, but for some reason she knows she can't handle hearing it. Whatever it is, it'll be poignant and sweet and terrifying, so she leans in and catches his mouth in a kiss. It's soft. Just a peck compared to anything else they've shared, but when she pulls away, Ben chases her mouth and tugs her back to him, slinging an arm around her waist like he has no intention of letting her go.

The way he kisses, the way he holds her to his chest, the way he makes a soft rumbling sound and then groans into her mouth... all it does is drive home the fact that kissing Ben— _being with_ Ben—is not at all what she expected. He sucks her bottom lip between his, nibbling at her while his nose presses into her cheek, and _god_ his mouth is plush, and sweet, commanding, and tender.

For a while, before the first time they kissed, she had this image of what it would be like. She thought it'd be nice. Great, even. She thought it would be fun and hot, but it's more like there's fire ripping through her veins. It's breathtaking and—

And it's _so much more_ than she thought it would be.

His mouth softens as he slows, working over her gently, and when he finally pulls back, the breath she lets out is faint. They stare at each other, and then slowly, more deliberately, he cups her face and presses his lips to hers again. He doesn't stop there—it's careful, but he pushes her back onto the blanket, just at the edge of the water, and follows her down.

He settles over her, between her thighs, kissing her like he has no intention of ever stopping.

She has no intention of stopping him.

It's private enough, where they are. They're surrounded by bushes on a private beach in the dark, and anyone on the property is far off, so when Ben's hand slides up her bare thigh, under her dress, Rey's mind isn't on where they are. It's on him, and on the way he kisses her desperately.

Ben says so much with the way his mouth slides over hers, with the way he holds her face and with the way his hand stills, just at the top of her thigh, the tiniest fraction of an inch from the cotton of her underwear. He stops, rests his forehead on hers, and lets out a shaky breath, like he can't quite believe what's happening, even though they've already shared a night together and plan to share more.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, and suddenly he's everywhere at once, his scent surrounding her and making her dizzy in the best way. His mouth finds the column of her throat, leaving burning kisses and nips, even daring ones directly over her mating gland.

She lets out a soft sigh and whispers, "I think I'd want you to, someday."

At her own words, she freezes.

Ben lifts off her, eyes wide. "Did you just say..." His words trail off as he stares down at her under him. What he says next comes out in a whisper of disbelief. "You'd want me to bite you?"

"What? No," she says quickly, feeling panic bubble and rise in her throat. "No, I—"

It's a lie. Clearly, they both know it, and there are a million ways this moment could go. A million ways their story might end.

It might end in her running, might end in a tearful rejection, might end in heartbreak.

He looks stunned. "Oh. Rey… is that really something you'd want?"

It might end in a bite. It might end like a fairy tale.

Her heart pounds while she tries to figure out how to answer him.

It might end in her never trusting another person, or even her own heart, again.

But as he stares down at her and cups her face, his thumb sliding over her cheek, there's only one thing she knows for certain.

She is utterly, terrifyingly in love.

And maybe she can't read the end of their story, maybe she doesn't know how to jump ahead and skim the last page, but as she lifts up on her elbows and presses her mouth to his, ignoring the way tears prick at her eyes, there's an absolute truth that strikes her with such a level of clarity that it feels like she's finally woken up.

Since the moment she opened that email, from the very _moment_ she knew she had a soulmate, she's assumed the ink of their story had been put to paper, dried and indelible.

But maybe their story hasn't been finished yet.

Maybe she's the one doing the writing.

She nods into their kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	11. Chapter 11

They rest in each other's arms on the blanket spread over sand for what feels like hours. The sounds of the party drift away into the distance, and at some point, all Rey hears is the heart pounding against the chest that's become her pillow. She drags her fingers up his body as it rises and falls with his breathing, and she props up on her elbow so she can look down at him. She studies his face while he sleeps, caresses fingertips over his cheekbones and nose and mouth.

It's a wonder he doesn't wake.

Her expression softens as she gazes at him, wondering not for the first time how he's real. How _any_ of this is real. She could never have guessed that he'd become the person who could infuriate her one moment, then make her feel loved and full of hope for the future in the next.

Not for a single moment does she believe this is what her parents had. As she watches him sleep, watches him breathe, feels his heart beat, and feels a swell of love for him, she knows on such an instinctive level that nobody—not a single person—could leave this. Nobody could have this and give it up. Not for a soulmate, not for anything.

Rey blinks tears from her eyes, overcome with everything she's feeling. There's a little voice in her, insisting she bite him, insisting she make him _her Alpha,_ because he is, he's hers, he—

She's not sure what does it, whether it's her crying or her shuddering breaths, or the change that must happen in her scent, but Ben stirs under her, rolling over on his side to face her. His arm slides further around her and he nuzzles at her, murmuring, "What is it? What's wrong? Your scent..."

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong," she whispers, sniffling. She kisses along his jaw and lets him cuddle her, lets him comfort her.

His voice is rough with sleep. "Nothing? Then why are you crying?"

"I'm happy."

It's easier to admit than she expected.

A smile grows across the mouth that's pressed to her forehead. "Oh." He kisses her there, then kisses down the side of her face, and teases, "That's an acceptable reason, then. I'm okay with that."

"Oh, are you?" Rey laughs, wiping at her face.

He hums, nudging his face into the crook of her neck. "I like it when you're happy." His lips press to her skin, and she feels him breathe her in. When he exhales, it's shaky and slow. "I don't think I'm ever going to get enough of you."

The smart option would be to suggest they go inside and peel these formal clothes off each other and finally have sex in an actual _bed,_ but Rey's mind's gone too fuzzy to be logical. She tugs at the front of his shirt until he rolls on top of her, his knee landing between her thighs. Ben nips at her neck, and the words are on the tip of her tongue— _bite, bite, bite, please._

His mouth catches hers before she dares to ask.

The blanket under her, while once soft, feels like sandpaper, and the breeze coming off the water does little to cool her skin, which burns hotter by the second.

Ben skims a hand up her thigh, and the skirt of her dress bunches up. He kisses her deeply as he pushes aside the cotton that covers her and traces her entrance with one blunt finger. His breathing stutters. He pulls back, and Rey stares up at him, annoyed with the way he stopped. She wriggles her hips, tries to roll them, tries to prod him until he continues, but he doesn't. His throat bobs, and after a moment, he removes his hand entirely and brings his finger to his lips.

Rey watches as he sucks the finger into his mouth, closing his eyes. He groans when he tastes her.

"Slick. You— _fuck,_ your heat's starting early. How are you feeling?"

She blinks up at him, unable to figure out why he isn't kissing her or biting her or knotting...

Oh.

It takes a little effort to calm the insistent voice in her mind—the one that tends to only act up around her heats—but after a minute, Rey focuses in on herself and tries to answer his question. The only answer she comes up with is a lame, "Hot."

He nods. "Want to go upstairs?"

Upstairs is nice enough, but doesn't smell like home. She cringes at the memory of the sterile-smelling bed. She doesn't want a sterile-smelling nest. It should smell like him, should smell like _them._

"There are blankets," he reasons, trying to tempt her. "Soft, warm blankets for you." His fingertips soothe over her gland, which is both helpful and frustrating. She doesn't want _soothing,_ she wants a bite, and knot, a—

Rey clears her throat, trying to regain some sanity. Driving home while in heat (rut, too, probably) would be less than brilliant, she reminds herself. No matter how much she'd rather curl up in her own room. Odds are they'd need to pull over and just use the rental car, and there's no way they wouldn't get slapped with a huge cleaning fee.

"Yeah," she nods, her voice thick. "We should go upstairs."

He hesitates. "You're sure you want help?" The look she gives him is withering, but Ben snorts. "Hey, I just thought I'd ask."

"It's a very stupid question," she mutters.

"Any chance we can skip the snark and get to the part where you're begging for me to knot you?" he sighs. "I remember that part from last time. I wouldn't mind a repeat."

She glowers at him. There's an itchy, uncomfortable feeling forming under her skin that always starts just before her compulsive need to start nesting, and it only makes her more irritable.

"You're an ass."

"You seem to like that," Ben laughs, leaning down to kiss her temple. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you."

Rey glares only for a moment, but as he smiles, she can't help the reluctant grin her mouth curls into.

* * *

It's hours later—a little after 6 AM that Sunday morning, and long after he's filled the convenient little mini-fridge in the suite with fruit and cheeses and other healthy snacks, when his skin starts to feel about two sizes too small, tight and prickling with the start of what's sure to be an intense rut. The first thing he does is send an email informing the necessary parties at the library that he'll be away from work for a while. At first, he types out a message saying he won't be in until Thursday, but then he hears a soft, needy sound from where Rey's napping in the blankets she's bundled up in, and he decides to make it a full week.

The second thing he does is type out an awkward message to the group chat he shares with his parents.

S.O.S. Family Chat   
  
**Today** 6:22 AM   
This is obviously terrible timing, but Rey’s heat started earlier than expected. I would not suggest anyone come upstairs. I’m sorry, but we’re going to need to stay here for a while.   
Can I pay for you to take a vacation?   
Somewhere else.   
Far, far away.   
Dad   
Chewie and I do want to check out Lando’s new pod-racing track   
Mom   
Are you trying to kick us out of our summer home, Benny?   
The air system is running, we should be fine.   
Do you need anything? We can pick up groceries and leave them outside your door.   
I would rather pay for you to be anywhere else. For a week. Minimum.   
Mom   
A whole week? That seems excessive, doesn’t it?   
Dad   
Would you leave the kid alone, don’t you want a daughter-in-law?   
Mom   
Good point.   
Have you told her yet?   
You should tell her. It's very romantic. I'm sure she'll be thrilled.   
Can we please not have that conversation right now?   
Uncle Luke   
I left the house after the party ended, I’m not even in Naboo right now. Did I really need to be included in this?   
Oh my god, I’m sorry Uncle Luke, I picked the wrong group chat.   
Uncle Luke   
If I pour bleach into my eyes, assume you’re all to blame.   
Though I suppose you can let Rey know I’ll reschedule our meeting for next week.   
I’ll let her know, but I doubt she’s worried about it right now.   
Dad   
Probably not   
Mom   
LOL   
I didn’t mean it like that!   
Uncle Luke   
I’m not drunk enough for any of this.   
Okay I’m turning my phone off now and pretending this never happened.   
Mom   
Let us know if you need anything!   
Dad   
Or, y’know… don’t   
I will not be doing that.   
Uncle Luke   
If you do, do not include me on those messages.   
Again, I will not be texting any of you if we need anything.   
Dad   
Thank god

On that final note, Ben groans and sets his phone down on top of the little mini-fridge.

Everything aches. It feels than rut normally does, and the voice that can usually can be quieted is loud and demanding he mate her, but he takes a deep breath, trying to push that voice away. She's resting. He can wait.

When he turns to walk toward the bed, wondering if he, too, can relax enough for a nap before Rey wakes up, he finds she's already standing there in front of him. Her skin is flushed, and her soft waves are a mess from sleep. She's carrying a towel, as if it's a normal Sunday morning and she's planning to shower before she leaves for a day full of plans.

An odd noise of protest leaves his throat. "Where are you going, Omega?" Then he cringes, noticing how rough and demanding his voice is, and he corrects, "I mean, good morning. Are you… going somewhere?"

 _Good morning._ It comes out so politely, it's jarring. Especially since he's planning to be buried deep in her, soaked with her slick as soon as humanly possible, manners be damned.

Rey's expression turns bewildered. "I'm… showering?" She grimaces. "I feel gross. I _smell_ gross. I'll only be a few minutes. Seriously, the amount of slick is..." She makes a face and shakes her head. "Just a quick shower."

She. She wants to wash it—wants to—

His mind, at least the part that's working, rages and then short-circuits at the idea.

Wants to _wash the slick away, what is she thinking, why would she do that, it's for him, she made it for—_

When she blinks at him, Ben realizes he's said at least some of that out loud.

Her cheeks flush. "Um. Isn't it a bit much? It's literally dripping—"

"Perfect," he interrupts, almost in a pant. "It's perfect. I think if you wash it away I might— just… don't, please?"

It's not even him trying to be kind. Ben's not sure he'd have it in him to lie right now, because there isn't a word for the scent filling the suite they're in. Thank _god_ for the air filtration system. Just the thought of anyone else smelling this sinful, stunning scent, pisses him.

She pauses. "Oh."

The room's gone so silent he can hear her swallow, and he wants to follow the sound down her throat. His eyes drift down until he sees that her thighs are wet, and so are the edges of the cotton shorts she wore to bed. There's a little line of it, starting to drip down the inside of her thighs.

Ben works his mouth, staring unabashedly. Then he advances.

* * *

They make quick work of her clothes, and as Ben starts touching her—as his hands start sliding over her in a fervent, needy rush—Rey's skin heats. She was already warm and sweaty, but now, as Ben kisses her while walking her back to the bed, it feels like she's on fire. When the backs of her legs bump against the mattress, she lets herself fall back onto the nest of blankets she's been sleeping in.

"Such a nice nest," he mumbles between kisses. "Such a good Omega."

It's either the praise or the way his hands glide down her abdomen, or _both_ , that makes her shiver.

Normally, she'd be begging an empty room for relief right now. She'd be out of her mind with a desperate need for something to quell the thirst, but just being in the same room as him and feeling his hands move on her with the promise of more to come, relieves a lot of her tension.

Ben follows her, crawling over her as she scoots further onto the bed so her legs aren't dangling off. He mouths at her neck, trails wet kisses down between her breasts, swirls his tongue in patterns over her belly. His hand hikes up one of her legs, and he presses his face between her thighs, groaning against her cunt.

She lifts up on her elbows, about to demand he stop wasting time and knot her already, but she stops, mouth open, as she sees the way he's looking up at her. His eyes are dark. Hungry, even. He inhales quietly before taking a long lick up her, tasting her.

Then he murmurs, "Can't believe you wanted to wash the slick away."

Rey's eyes flutter shut as he licks up her thigh. He's not bothering to tease at her clit or anything; he's not really eating her out. He's just licking at the excess slick, drinking her down, making her legs shake. More trickles out of her, readying her for a knot, and Ben sucks at it like he's desperate for whatever he can get.

"Such a pretty cunt," she hears him mutter, just before his nose slides against her clit. "Swollen, so much slick, all for me—"

"Maybe you should be in me, then," she breathes.

"Do you have any idea how good you taste?"

"If you kiss me, maybe I'll find out."

It doesn't take any more prompting than that. He crawls back up, kissing like he wants to devour her. She can taste the slick on his tongue and hums at the sweetness of his kiss mixed with her own taste.

Rey shoves at the boxers he's still wearing, trying to get them down his thighs, but finds herself irrationally angry with them, and his t-shirt, too. While he's busy licking at the gland on her neck, she snaps, "Would you get your fucking clothes off already?"

At that, Ben stills. He lifts up, tilting his head at her with a faint, lopsided grin. "Impatient?"

She tugs at the cotton of the t-shirt. "This isn't a good time to tease me."

"Now is the _perfect_ time to tease you," he corrects, lowering down over her. He settles on her, his weight pressing her into the bed. Burning kisses land, scattered across her collarbones as he adds, "Need you ready."

"Trust me, I'm ready," she pants. She laces her fingers into his hair, trying to redirect him—where to, she's not sure. "Need you. In me. _Now."_ When he makes no effort to move, she grips at the t-shirt he's wearing and makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat at how itchy the fabric feels against her burning skin. "I want this off, Ben. Off. Now."

He smiles against her skin. "You're very pushy, you know."

"Are Alphas in rut always so difficult?" she mutters. "Here I thought you'd _want_ to knot me."

Ben catches her mouth in a deep, fierce kiss. Her breathing stutters as one of his hands slips between her thighs so he can press a finger into her, pumping in and out of her slowly. He bites at her lips, works at her mouth until it feels swollen, and then finally breaks for air. A second finger slides into her, curling at _just_ the right spot.

He stares down at her with an amused grin. "Not that I mind the mouthiness—it's hot—but try being patient for once. I'm just trying to make sure you're ready. I'd like nothing more than to have you stuck on my knot right now, but I don't think you'd appreciate the lack of foreplay."

"Would you at least lose the shirt?"

As expected, Ben ignores her completely, and works his fingers inside her, scissoring and massaging in a way that's almost more frustrating than enjoyable. Any normal non-heat day, it'd feel amazing, but right now it's more like torture. It's embarrassing, how needy her voice sounds when she speaks again. It's almost a sob when she asks, "Ben, please? Please, I need more. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind, I need you in me."

Her thighs are soaked with slick again. She can feel the slippery, sticky feeling as he nods, then pushes her legs apart with his hips. It's only when a concerned expression crosses his face that she realizes the voice begging for a knot isn't just in her head.

"Okay, it's okay," he soothes, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth. His long hair falls around them as he nuzzles his nose to hers. "I'm sorry. No more teasing, I promise."

Ben only pulls far enough away to yank the shirt up over his head, tossing it away from them. He doesn't bother getting up to pull his boxers off, settling instead for shoving them down a little and pulling his cock out of them. The needy, whining voice in her mind quiets as he positions himself and pushes into her. He slides all the way in, as far as she can take him, stretching her slowly.

The entire room lets out a sigh as his hips still, pressed firmly against hers. His eyes close as though he's savoring the feeling and not just letting her adjust to him, which is, admittedly, something she needs a moment to do.

Hands drag up her torso, teasing over her nipples before he rests over her, propping himself on his forearms so their chests press together. His mouth finds her neck, and she can't help but moan as he sucks at her gland, humming his contentment against her skin. When his hips finally roll against hers, her hands fly up and tangle fingers in his hair, holding him close.

She needs him closer, _deeper,_ and tries to angle her hips up, tries to wriggle under him to urge him to work himself in further. His cock drags inside her, so slow and perfect, but all she can think of is that she needs more. Every move he makes is tentative, hesitant. "Ben, please, I'm not going to break."

His teeth nip around the edges of her gland, _so_ close to giving her something she wants more than she ever expected to, and just that almost puts her over the edge. Her back arches up in response, pushing her breasts up into his chest, and Ben slides an arm under her, catching around her lower back.

With a desperate, guttural sound, his hips rock into hers, thrusting deeper and deeper, and harder, just the way she needs.

All the sensations—his hands on her, his frantic breaths hitting her skin, his cock filling her up, his firm chest pressing to hers—make it almost impossible to remember to keep breathing. Her eyes focus in on the sweat beading on his forehead, and with her fingers tangled in his hair, she tilts his head to the side, licking the sweat off him before capturing his mouth in a long kiss.

Ben pulls away to catch his breath, resting his forehead on hers as he slides almost all the way out, then drives back into her. Everything, every little sensation, sends shivers and quakes through her body, and with the way he holds her tightly as he fucks her, it's impossible to escape all the building pressure.

The knot swelling in her is an odd feeling. Not a bad one, just unfamiliar and maybe alarming. Ben licks into her mouth, getting more and more unsteady with his movements as her breath starts coming in hitches.

"Oh—oh, fuck," she says shakily, as his knot grows larger. She grips frantically at his chest and shoulders. "That's, um—"

Between kisses, he whispers against her mouth, "So perfect. _Mine._ "

His knot expands, tugging at her with every move he makes. It catches in her, working at the spot inside her as Ben finds he can't rock his hips as freely, and it forces her building orgasm. Her legs shake around him as she moans, and she loops an arm around his neck so he'll kiss her again and swallow the sounds that slip from her mouth as she comes.

Chills run across her whole body as he twitches and pulses inside her, coming over and over as she's stuck on his knot. It's a strange feeling, his cum flooding her while she's stretched a little past the point of comfort. Every time he pulses with another wave of it, she shudders with a new little ripple of pleasure, like a filthy feedback loop.

After a minute or two, Ben pulls away from her mouth, and sighs quietly. He props up on an elbow and looks down at her, giving her a little half-smile before he leans in and presses a kiss to her mouth. She tries wriggling her hips, seeing if that will relieve some pressure of him being locked inside her, but it only tugs on him.

Ben makes a choking noise. "Don't—don't do that, please."

"Sorry," she murmurs, wrinkling her nose as she tenses at another pulse of cum. "Feels weird. _Good_ weird," she elaborates, at his mildly offended expression. "Overwhelming. Feels like a lot. I'm not sure how else to say it."

"Here, let me try something."

He holds her tightly to him and turns them over, flinching a little in discomfort in the process. He settles on his back, propped up against all the pillows, and Rey straddles his lap, resting against his chest. The angle is easier in the new position.

"Hi," he says softly, tilting her face up toward him with a finger under her chin. His other hand soothes up and down her back, comforting her in the sweetest way. "Is this better?"

"Much," Rey sighs. She finally relaxes, curling into his chest while he kisses her forehead. There's a gentle rumbling sound—she's purring. It's unsurprising, given how safe and comfortable it is in his arms.

"Get some rest," he whispers. His hold on her tightens protectively. "We'll be like this for a while."

She nods sleepily, as he pulls a blanket up around them. Dazed, she mumbles, "Should've had you help last time." She buries her face in his chest, muffling her words against him. "Good Alpha. My Alpha."

Before falling asleep, she hears him hum. He leaves a kiss at her temple, sighing contentedly.

"Yeah, Rey. All yours."

* * *

Some time later—a day, maybe?—Ben jerks awake to the sound of his ringing phone. Without opening his eyes, he pats at the bed, searching for either Rey or the source of the incessant chirping. His legs are tangled in the nest of plush blankets, but rather than being wrapped around _her,_ he finds he's spooning and thrusting himself against an overstuffed pillow.

He cracks his eyes open and scowls at the pillow. At least the ringing stops, but as he rolls over on the bed, looking for Rey, he becomes more and more alert. The panic sets in when he realizes she's not in bed, and when he realizes he doesn't know what day it is. It's… probably Monday?

He sits up straight, eyes darting around the room as he looks for her. Second by second, his chest rises and falls faster and faster. Their nest is still warm, still smells strongly of her, and it's still soaked through with slick, so she hasn't been gone long.

As he thinks the word _gone,_ there's a swell of pure alarm that washes over him.

Has he not pleased her? Was he not good enough to keep her in their nest? Did he do something wrong?

Ben jumps out of bed when the phone rings again, ignoring the fact that Rey's phone is on the nightstand while he tries to convince himself that it might be her calling. He rushes over to the mini-fridge and snatches the device, picking up the call with a shaky swipe of his finger.

"Rey?" he demands. "Where are you? Where did—"

"Calm down, kid," his father interrupts. "She's okay, she just must've wandered out of your room. She's in your mother's reading room." He pauses. "I think she's confused. She doesn't seem interested in getting help, not from me at least. I would have had your mother show her back upstairs, but she's out to lunch with Amilyn. Sorry I'm calling, but I didn't want to leave her down here alone."

It takes him a minute to process that, but then he remembers how Rey would leave her room mid-heat in search of food. Ben lets out a strangled noise. "Tell me she's dressed."

"She's wrapped up in a blanket. Seems pretty upset," his father admits, sounding sympathetic. "I offered to order a pizza—"

At that, Ben perches the phone between his face and shoulder so he can start yanking on a pair of sweatpants. "Don't feed her pizza!"

"What's your problem with pizza? Everyone likes pizza."

"Feed my Omega pizza and I will force you out of this house," he snaps. "She needs protein and fluids, not carbs and grease! Feed her pizza and I _swear—"_

"Alright, alright, no pizza. How about takeout? Maybe some fried rice? Crab rangoon? General Gao's chicken is protein, how's that?"

Ben nearly shrieks into the phone. He forces himself to stop and breathe, and then grinds out, "Don't you fucking dare. Stop trying to feed her junk food, that shit's fried and it's _full_ of sugar and artificial crap. Just let me put some clothes on and I'll come get her. I'll be there in two minutes."

He hangs up before tugging a shirt on and then rushes out of the room and down the stairs. It takes him a moment to remember where Han said she was, but then he hears his father's voice trying to offer her _fucking ice cream._ It'll be a miracle if he doesn't strangle the man.

When Ben gets to his mother's reading room, a small room at the end of a maze of hallways, he sees Rey curled up inside one of the fluffy cream-colors blankets, sitting on the small maroon love-seat next to a set of bay windows. She's sniffling, wiping at her eyes, and judging by her scent, she's distraught.

Of course, his Beta father, who's likely had little to no experience with Omegas, can't tell that. He looks bewildered, and Ben walks in just as his father says, a little awkwardly, "You sure? It's cookie dough… might help with the fever."

Ben clears his throat, glowering at the man. He lightens up a little when he reminds himself his father's just trying to help. The man's lack of scent helps.

"It's not a fever, and she doesn't need sugar," he grumbles. "Stop offering her crap."

When Rey's gaze flicks to his, her expression melts into relief. "Ben," she sighs. Her voice is thin, strained. "I couldn't find you."

"I know, I know," he murmurs, walking over to her. He scoops her up, kissing at her neck and completely ignoring the fact that his father's still in the room. "I know, sweetheart. I think it's the air filtration system—you can't smell the nest, can you?"

She shakes her head, then takes a deep breath with her face pressed into his chest.

"Did you get hungry?" he asks quietly. "We have food upstairs, you know."

"We do?"

"Yeah, we do," he nods. "Where did you think I've been getting it from?" He sprinkles kisses over her face, reveling in how quickly the anxiety seeps out of her scent. She even smiles up at him, and he explains, "There's a mini-fridge upstairs. You were sleeping when I stocked it, but there's lots of food. More sliced apples, oranges, cheese, some hard-boiled eggs, almonds… lots of options. Let's go back upstairs, hm?"

Rey wraps bare arms around his neck, and he tugs at the blanket around her, keeping her bundled up. He presses another kiss on her forehead before glancing back to his father, who seems more amused than anything.

"She got lost," Ben explains, nodding up at the air vents set into the ceiling of the room. The same ones are in every room of the house, actively filtering out pheromones. "She couldn't find any familiar scents, so she probably started panicking."

"Huh. Everything's okay now, then?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Thanks for calling me, I was freaking out trying to figure out why she wasn't upstairs," he admits. Smiling down at Rey, he tsks playfully, "I can't believe you left. Don't do that again."

"You were sleeping," she mutters. "I didn't want to wake you up."

He snorts, shaking his head at her. "Next time, wake me up. That's what I'm here for."

Rey's mouth quirks up into a half-smile. Her fingers thread into his hair, playing with it. "Oh. Is _that_ what you're here for?"

At the change in her scent and the innuendo in her voice, Ben clears his throat, thankful his father is very much oblivious. "Okay, we're going to go back upstairs," he says, trying to keep his tone neutral. "Thanks for calling, won't happen again, see you in a day or two, bye."

It takes the entire walk to the stairs to realize his father was laughing as they left, and that Ben was hardly subtle, but by then Rey's whispering things about his knot in his ear, so he doesn't give it much thought. The moment they get back to the suite, she tosses the blanket she's gripping onto the bed and shoves his sweatpants down his hips, nearly tackling him to the carpeted floor. He catches himself on his hands, then sits on the carpet and tugs her into his lap.

Ben groans as she sinks down onto him and attacks his mouth with fervent kisses.

Breakfast or lunch or whatever meal is appropriate for whatever time it is (Ben's a little too lost in the way she rolls her hips to care) can wait.

* * *

It's impossible to keep track of time. Rey doesn't even track what day it is. Normally, her heat lasts three or four days, though there was a rare six-day fiasco when she swapped suppressant brands that left her feeling both physically and mentally drained for a week afterward. But right now, time could be rushing by or standing still, and she wouldn't know. Probably wouldn't even care.

Why would she care about a silly little thing like time when she's spending all of it curled up with _him,_ kissing his mouth and any part of him she can, holding him, touching him, listening to the sweet, pretty promises he makes? A week, month, year, could pass for all she cares. All Rey knows about time is that she wants to spend it like this. With him.

This isn't the first time someone's promised they'd keep her safe, make her happy, _love_ her... but it's the first time she's believed every word.

He's curled around her, sweat beading on his skin, his front pressed tight to her back while he mouths at her neck. He's close to knotting—she can feel him expanding as he fucks her slowly. They're far enough into things for their muscles to be growing tired and achy from use, but it's in the best possible way. A large, comfortably warm hand presses between her breasts, holding her close. Her mind is foggy and lost to physical needs, but she thinks she hears him whisper, "Would have waited for you forever," against the side of her neck.

She thinks she hears him murmur, "I love you," but Rey can't tell if that's left his mouth or hers. Lately she's had a hard time determining where they each begin and end.

Truthfully, either of them could have said it.

His knot expands, catching inside her, and Ben groans against the back of her shoulder, shuddering out a breath with his arms around her, keeping her tethered while she feels a blinding pleasure wash through her body. There's no word, no concept, nothing she's ever studied in a textbook, nothing she's ever known, that could explain the way her world comes apart at the seams when he says it again, when he says it just enough for her to know he's said it and means it.

"I love you." His voice sounds raw and rough, but he says it again, just as she's questioning her sanity. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

It's a tricky thing, maneuvering while knotted. Still, she manages to twist back just enough to meet his eyes. There's an ache in them, something soft, something filled with a longing she knows a little too well. She wants to say it back. She wants _so_ desperately to say it back, because it's true and he deserves to know it and hear it every day, every moment they're together. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but rather than saying them out loud, she pours them into a deep kiss. The angle's awkward, but Ben makes a soft, desperate noise, and holds her face in both hands as kisses her back.

Maybe it should scare her, how much she wants to melt into him, how much she never wants this to end. Maybe all of this should terrify her. There are a million reasons it should.

Rey can't put her finger on when all of this stopped being something she feared, but she doesn't bother asking herself that. She just kisses him, and stops questioning why she's happy enough to cry.

* * *

As per their new norm, Rey lets him feed her while she's stuck on his knot. It's a feeling she's gotten used to—being full with a real, non-silicone knot—and while it took maneuvering for them to get the food containers Ben prepped, she's pleased with their current position. It's hard not to be happy while sitting in his lap, full of _him,_ while he pulses inside her and feeds her slices of apple and cheddar cheese. Especially when he's looking at her like she's a sight to behold.

He quirks a brow at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, talking through a mouthful of food.

"What are you thinking?" he prods, reaching up to tuck her hair behind one ear. "We've had an interesting few days, but I feel like we haven't had a chance to talk. And this seems to be the most clear-headed you've been since your heat started."

She swallows, nodding. "I guess I'm thinking this is the first heat I haven't hated." Biting at her lip, she admits, "It's almost done, and part of me wishes it would last longer. Is that crazy?"

His mouth curls into a smile. Just as he's about to say something, his cock twitches again, flooding her with more cum, and he squeezes his eyes closed, shuddering at the feeling. Rey watches, trying not to grin as she shivers. After a moment, he cracks his eyes back open and clears his throat, still sounding breathless when he finally answers, "Uh… no, no, it's not crazy. This is what heat's supposed to be like. It doesn't need to be a—how did you put it? A three-to-four day torture fest?"

Rey leans in, nuzzling her nose to his. "This is definitely not that."

"No," he laughs. "Far from it. But when you get what your body's demanding," he subtly nods to where their bodies connect, where she's stuck on a knot larger than she thought she could handle, "It's not so terrible. It's like I said after your last heat. If you have help, ideally you'll come out of it feeling rested. Content. Sore, maybe, but rested." He tilts his head, adding quietly, "They can all be like this, if you want."

She presses her chest to his and hooks her chin over his shoulder, feeling his knot finally deflate. They readjust, letting him slide out of her while they get into a more comfortable cuddling position, with the side of her face pressed to the front of his shoulder. It's easy to lose track of how much time she stays there in his arms before she whispers, "I do want that."

He's been skimming fingertips up and down her spine, but the steady sliding of skin over skin halts at her words. A hand grips at her hip. "You do?"

"Yeah."

Ben tilts his head down at her. For a long moment, they just look at each other. Study each other. Then, slowly, he leans down and presses his mouth to hers. His lips have gotten a little chapped with everything they've been doing, but his mouth is warm and generous and sweet, and he tastes like the apple slices they've been eating. He slides the hand at her hip up her abdomen, up to cup her breast as his lips slide over hers. That's all it takes for a little more slick to trickle from her.

She pulls back from the kiss, panting, "I think—I think one more time?"

He interrupts her with another kiss, and she only has a moment to be impressed again with the refractory period of an Alpha in rut before he's pushing back into her. As many times as they've done this in the past three days—and truly, she's lost count—it still knocks the breath out of her lungs.

Ben presses his face to her neck, rocking his hips under her desperately, as though trying to push himself in even deeper despite that seeming impossible. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as she can, but he will _never_ be close enough for her liking. It's something she's come to believe. She will never be close enough to him, she'll never get enough of him, never—

"Rey," he murmurs, his voice sounding wrecked, "Rey, Rey, Rey." He presses her own name to her skin with kisses, and breathes the sweetest words she's ever heard. "I love you. You're mine. You're my home."

Tears prick at her eyes.

They say it's where the heart is. They say it's where you're safe and loved, and that there's no other place like it. They say it's other people—the people who love you, and help you through life. They say it's a soulmate, but as far as Rey knows, _home_ is an odd thing, hard to find and almost impossible to define. Except, maybe it's not hard to find. Maybe it's not impossible to define, maybe it's obvious and clear and easy, and she's just been so shrouded in fear, she's been too blind to see it.

She puts it out of her mind for a moment and catches Ben's mouth in another deep kiss, answering his sweet words as best she can. She's lost in him, in the hot breath that comes out in pants as he kisses a frantic path across her jaw and down her neck, in the way his fingertips press bruising marks into her hips and thighs.

Ben surrounds her with heat and passion and _love,_ thrusting up into her, playing her body like she's an extension of him.

And maybe she hasn't said those words, maybe she hasn't told him exactly how much she wants to take, how much she wants to give, how much she _loves_ him—because she _does_ love him, and maybe that's foolish and terrifying, but how can it be any of those things when it feels so right?

She gives him everything. Everything she has, everything she is, and he takes it, steals her mouth in a wet kiss so dizzying it turns her world upside down. Or maybe the world is right side up for the first time in her life.

Tears run down her face, dampening his cheeks as she grips the headboard behind him. The pressure that builds between them and inside her is an afterthought to the way he looks at her after they kiss. It's like she's wrecked him for anyone else. Like he's hopelessly in love.

Rey shivers at the feeling of his swelling knot, and her head drops to rest on his shoulder. He groans against her skin as she rolls her hips, and…

It's the easiest, most genuine decision she's ever made, muffling her cry with her teeth in the flesh of his mating gland. Her teeth press in deeply, breaking skin in a bite that's far from an innocent or accidental nip. There's lightning under her skin and even that's nothing to the molten core that is Ben's body, melded with hers.

Silence—save for their breaths and pounding hearts—falls between them.

The sharp tang of blood is on her tongue. Rey lets out a shaky exhale as she realizes it, and as she sees the permanent mark she's left on him. Her gaze wanders and her eyes well with more tears as she gazes at the beautiful early summer sun's light, stretching across his alabaster chest.

Ben's eyes widen in an expression of stunning realization. He looks at her like she's the sun, like she's the moon, or some other heavenly body or miracle or _something._

That's when it hits her. It's an overwhelming feeling, one she's never felt, no matter how hard she's tried to find it.

Seconds of pure joy stretched out into epochs as time does funny things, because _this is it_.

Her home. It's _Ben._

She lets out a soft sob and lifts a hand to cover her mouth.

Everything falls away. All the bullshit about non-soulmate pairs being doomed, all the lies about the children of non-soulmates never finding love, all the fear that he'll change his mind and leave her. It fades into nothingness while those stunning brown eyes stare at her in awe.

And then reality crashes in with breathtaking pain, in the form of a single, heartbreaking question.

How will she ever tell Kylo?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of the main story (Ch 13 is an Epilogue), meaning **all angst is resolved within this chapter, and it does not end on a cliffhanger**. Anyway, I'm planning to have this fully posted/completed within a week.

His world has stopped being black and white.

That's how some people describe it. The library has a tidy selection of romance novels all about couples who only start to see in color when they've fallen in love with their soulmate or when they've been mated, though, often those events are one and the same. Ben's always thought they were silly, or at the very least, quite the exaggeration.

He thinks he understands it now, as he watches her through wide eyes, with a sappy grin on his face. He squeezes her hip, wanting to pull her closer, and he sits up, aiming to complete the bond. The idea of sinking his teeth into her mating gland is unimaginable.

Ben presses his face to her neck, starting with a kiss. She's soft in his arms, soft and _perfect_ , and his eyes are damp, and he isn't sure how it's possible to be so happy. He kisses her neck, all around the little swollen patch he's going to claim.

Rey goes rigid.

He stills for a moment, with his mouth against the spot he plans to bite. Except, he doesn't bite. He doesn't, because something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

Because... she pulls away.

Hesitantly, Ben leans back, frowning. "Is everything okay?"

She doesn't answer, but her scent is enough. She is _miles_ from okay. Many, many miles. Her chest starts rising and falling quickly, her eyes fill with a sadness he can't understand given their current situation, and as soon as she realizes his knot's gone down, she pushes off him. Ben watches, unblinking as his mate—his _soulmate_ —leaves their nest. He freezes, processing what's happened. The aroma rolling off her is something full of despair, and he just… doesn't understand.

"Rey?"

Ben watches her start to pace.

" _Rey?"_

She doesn't even acknowledge him. It's like he's talking to a wall.

His voice cracks. "Rey, what's going on? Talk to me."

"I—I need to think," she whispers, her voice thin. "I can't believe I did that."

_"What?"_

She doesn't answer. Just keeps pacing. The bite she left on his neck throbs, reminding him it's there—as if he could forget—and there's a slow, terrible sinking feeling in his chest. The wave of emotion he feels coming off her isn't only sadness.

It's regret.

She regrets biting him?

His lips part in a mixture of horror and shock as he watches her pace. It's a breakup, Ben thinks. _His mate doesn't want him._

There's a level of numbness that starts to set in. Something awful and tragic tries to take hold, but the numbness washes over it instead. Silently, he slides off the bed, dressing in the first pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he can find, because he—he can't. Can't be in this room, can't even think of being in the nest that smells like the perfect combination of them. Can't bear to watch her fail yet again to grapple with such an obvious truth. It's been a lot, and this… it's too much.

When he looks over, one more time, Rey's still pacing in front of the windows that overlook the beach. She's biting at her lips like she does when she's panicking, and she's got her arms crossed over her chest, wrapped around herself.

The horrid part of all this, is that all he wants to do is push aside how he's feeling and comfort her. Nobody ever warned him that this could be physically painful. That it could be agonizing, so horrible it could take his breath away and make his knees weak and make him wish the world was ending, because at least if the world was ending, he wouldn't need to live with whatever this is, this feeling that's so far past _pain_ that there's not a word for it.

When he leaves the room and realizes she didn't even notice, it's like his heart has splintered into a million pieces.

* * *

"I can't believe I did that to you. To our soulmates," Rey sighs, mid-pace. "I mean, I'm glad. But I'm so sorry, Ben. I can't help but feel guilty."

She stops her frantic back-and-forth and rests her forehead against the cool glass of the window. Briefly, she hopes nobody's standing outside on the beach looking up. If they are, they're getting quite the view, but she's got bigger problems right now.

Wincing, she asks, "How are you not angry with me? We didn't even discuss mating, and I took that choice from you. And I didn't just take it from you. I've deprived both our soulmates of something _massive_. How are you not shouting at me? How are you not furious? I know you love me, and _god_ I love you, too, but you have every right to be—"

Rey turns, an apologetic expression on her face, ready to grovel or offer to at least apologize to his soulmate, because Rey owes her one _hell_ of an apology, especially if the woman was hoping to pursue anything romantic with Ben.

She stills. She's looking at an empty room. "Ben?"

When she frowns and takes in a breath, it hits her. His scent. Rey recoils, her eyes going wide, because while that might be his scent, it's something else, too. Something broken and tragic. It makes her instincts flare and cry out, insisting she find him and comfort him, because he's heartbroken. Worse, even, if that's possible. She can taste the despair, the sheer misery, and she chokes on it. She can taste the _pain._

For a moment, she can't figure out what the hell happened. But then she runs through the previous ten minutes or so from Ben's perspective, trying to figure out what would have upset him so terribly. It only takes her a minute to piece it together, and by then she's pulling on the first piece of clothing she grabs from her suitcase, a yellow summer dress, something only intended to be worn over a bathing suit.

If he's feeling that much pain, he's _dramatically_ misunderstood why she's upset.

She checks the bathroom to be sure, and her eyes catch on the gleaming silver and glass compass sitting there on the counter. Truthfully, she misses wearing it.

_He said it's meant to guide me home. I'm starting to feel pretty guilty about wearing it._

_But did he ever specify where home should be?_

For the first time since that conversation, she picks up the necklace. There's already so much guilt coursing through her, it somehow doesn't make her feel worse to put it on.

Another breath reminds her of the terrible, sad scent that's swirling around the suite, and she snaps out of it. She rushes out of the room, hoping she can follow his scent, though she'd prefer to never smell it like this again. With any luck she can clear things up quickly, and maybe they can figure out how they'll handle telling their soulmates, and then—

Rey stops halfway down the staircase. His scent's gone. For a moment she's stunned, wondering how that's possible, but a vague memory comes to mind. Some mention of an air filtration system.

"Son of a _bitch."_

A familiar voice replies from the first floor hallway, "Been called worse, I guess." Han comes into view, his grin a relief as she comes the rest of the way down the staircase. His mouth curls into a frown when he sees the stricken expression on her face. "Hey, you okay?" He hesitates. "You're not lost again, are you? I'd offer to split a pizza, but I think my son would—"

At the mention of Ben, she interrupts. "Did you see where he went? I need to talk to him."

"Mm, nope." It's a little frustrating how nonchalant Han is, but then she remembers he's a Beta and has little idea how desperate she is. "He didn't tell you where he was going?"

She lets out a frustrated whine. "I gave him the wrong impression and I think he's very upset right now. I need to clear something up."

Han nods, but doesn't ask. She feels an odd rush of gratitude for that. "Well," he shrugs. "Leia's in the kitchen, maybe she knows where he wandered off to."

It's half a minute's walk to the kitchen, and thankfully it's one room of the maze-like house she knows her way to. Han leads the way, poking his head into the room before entering. Leia's got one hand on her hip, the other holding open the door to the fridge as though she's trying to decide what to eat.

"Hey, you seen Ben?" Han asks.

Leia glances back over her shoulder. "Hm? Ben? No, isn't he still—" She spots Rey, and frowns. "He's not with you? I assumed he was still upstairs."

Rey shakes her head. She starts drumming her fingers on the counter top of the kitchen island, trying to determine how much to say. "I wasn't clear about something and I'm sure I gave him the wrong impression. I need to clear things up. He's very upset."

"Oh." Leia closes the door to the fridge and leans against it, folding her arms over her chest. "Well, the car you two came in is here, so maybe he went for a walk. Is everything okay? You seem…" Leia hesitates, narrows her eyes as she considers Rey, and works her mouth in such a familiar way. "You seem scattered. I'm not sure if that's the right word. Stressed? Sit, I'll make tea."

"I should go find—"

Leia waves her off. "Sit. I'll make tea. Give yourself a minute to calm down."

With a side glance, she sees Han shrug again before he turns to leave her alone with the woman who would, as far as Rey knows, very much like to plan her son's wedding to his soulmate ASAP and will thus probably _not_ be very happy once she hears that Rey has ruined the odds of that happening.

"Stop worrying," Leia huffs, as she fills a silver tea kettle and places it on the stove top. "Take a breath. I'm sure he'll be back soon and you can clear everything up. My son's not the type to jump to conclusions. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

The woman's using a rather soothing tone some Alphas are good at. Rey reluctantly slides onto a seat at the island, and taps her fingers on the counter as silence settles in the room. She slides her phone out of her pocket, hating that she can't call or text him; on the way out of the bedroom, she noticed his phone sitting on the nightstand before she left the room.

Still, she checks it for messages, just to be safe, but there's nothing. There isn't even anything from Kylo, and it's been days. That's arguably more her fault than his, but still, it's strange.

Rey bites at her mouth, thinking of him. Softly she says, "You know, I love your son, Leia. I've been afraid of that. I've been convinced it couldn't work because we've got soulmates, but I hope you know I _do_ love him." Her eyes flick up to the warm brown ones she knows so well. "I'm not sure if you were hoping he'd choose to be with her, but I hope you understand. I know it's unconventional, but... but he's mine. I'm not sure how else to explain it."

After a moment, Leia gives her a somewhat amused look. "Sometimes you just know." She hesitates, but smiles and asks, "Are you in contact with your soulmate? And, if you don't mind me asking, have you told him about your feelings for Ben?"

There's a spike of guilt in her chest as she shakes her head. She looks down to her phone, rubbing her thumb along the side of the device. "I should," she whispers. "I think I will. I need to. He deserves to know."

Leia hums. "I'll see if I can find some cookies to go with that tea."

Rey barely hears her. She's too distracted with opening up her email app.

* * *

> **From:** Rey Johnson < rjohns@chandrilau.edu >
> 
> **Sent:** Wednesday, June 5, 2019 12:29 PM
> 
> **To:** kyloren@soulbond.com
> 
> **Subject:** Please Read-Important
> 
> Kylo,
> 
> You were right about the ocean. It's better than I expected, in every way.
> 
> I'm sorry, I didn't email you to talk about the ocean.
> 
> I'm just putting off what I actually need to say. I have a lot to apologize for. First, I'm sorry I'm saying any of this over an email, but I never got your number and there's no way I'm putting all of this through a texting app, and I need you to know the truth.
> 
> Something that happened today should have been the happiest moment of my life. It is, I think. I think once I tell you everything it will be, but right now I feel guilty, so I need to get this all off my chest.
> 
> You asked me not to wear a mask with you, and I think I need to be done wearing one.
> 
> My name's Rey Johnson. I'm a grad student at ChandrilaU, studying soulmates (I know, I know, the irony). I live with an Alpha named Ben, and here's the second thing I need to apologize for—I mated him. I fell in love with him, too.
> 
> And part of me isn't the least bit sorry, because I don't know how to be sorry for something I'm so happy about. But part of me is so, so sorry. I know I don't owe you anything, and I know you've said so many times that you just want me to be happy and Ben makes me _so_ happy, but I can't help but assume that this will be upsetting news for you.
> 
> I'm not sure if you'll be upset and I'm worried you'll never want to speak to me again. But we are still soulmates even if we won't be mates, so I hope we can be friends.
> 
> I hope you email back. I've included my phone number, too, so if you want to call me to tell me I'm awful and selfish… honestly, I'd understand. What I've done heavily affects you, along with Ben's soulmate, and if you're angry with me, I get it.
> 
> I hope you can forgive me. I hope we can find a way to be in each other's lives.
> 
> Rey

* * *

Her thumb hesitates over the _send_ button.

But then she clicks it, and that's it. That's it, it's real, it's out there, and there's nothing more she can do about it. It's calming to see the email leave her outbox and move to her sent file. With a deep breath, Rey puts her phone back in her pocket and looks back up at Leia with a nervous smile.

"Hopefully he won't be angry."

An odd expression crosses Leia's face. "I'm sure he'll understand." She places a mug of peppermint-smelling tea and a little plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of Rey, and takes a seat at the kitchen island. "So. Ben, hm? I'm very happy for both of you, but I think you two need to have a talk."

Rey takes a long drink of the tea, wincing at the heat of it, and is pleasantly surprised to find Leia added sugar. "I want to," she says over the rim of the mug. "I _need_ to talk to him, but he left the room and didn't take his phone with him."

"Ben's always had times when he's just needed to take a breath from things," Leia explains. "Sometimes he needs space to process things, but he always comes home."

Something about that makes her pause. She huffs and sets the mug down. "I'm a moron." Standing up, she explains, "I know where he is."

"Oh?"

Rey nods. "Thanks for the tea, and I'm sure those cookies are great, but I need to go talk to him. And thanks for talking to me."

"Of course." Leia's smile is warm and genuine. "Just make sure he tells you everything. And if you don't mind me asking," she adds, as Rey's halfway out of the room, "Where is he? Does he have a secret hide-out I don't know about? Where are you going?"

Rey stills in the doorway, and her hand comes up to cover the compass at her chest. With a little grin, she looks back over her shoulder and answers, "Home."

* * *

When she sees messy black hair ruffled by either the mild wind or his own anxious hand, just over the top of one of the bushes, her relief is overwhelming. The closer she gets, the clearer she can see that he's there in his spot, sitting surrounded by bushes with his legs bent and pulled up to his chest. His arms are folded and perched on his knees.

He's giant as usual, but he looks so small right now. Curled in on himself and in desperate need of a hug. He's staring out at the water, watching the waves wash onto the shore.

For a moment, she pauses. There's a lot she needs to say. An entire book's worth of things. Lots to apologize for, and not only things that happened today. Part of her isn't sure she can say half of it out loud, but the ache she feels at seeing Ben like this—the pain she feels at recalling his deeply despairing scent up in their suite—makes her decision to tell him everything an easy one.

She pushes forward. It shouldn't be so easy to surprise an Alpha, but Ben seems lost in his own thoughts.

There's a sharp intake of breath when he sees her. When his eyes flick over to her, they're rimmed with redness, as though he's been wiping at them. It's terrible, _so_ much more terrible than any lingering fears she might have, but it's fixable, so she gets close, standing right next to him, and tangles a hand in his hair, brushing at it in a way she hopes is soothing.

"Hey, Ben," she says softly. "I need to make something clear. Can I join you? I've got a lot of things to say."

The look he gives her only convinces her he's heartbroken, and at the soft, woeful sound that comes from the back of his throat, it hits her, that he— he doesn't just think she's second guessing things. He thinks she's _leaving_ him.

"Oh, Ben, no," she whispers. "No, no, it's not like that. I'm not going anywhere. I have a lot to say, but I haven't changed my mind about you, or us. That's not what this is, I swear."

His brow furrows, and then his whole body relaxes as he sighs with relief. "Thank god. I've been going back and forth, trying to figure out if I misunderstood or overreacted. I shouldn't have left like that, but I needed to clear my head."

"I don't blame you. I wasn't exactly clear." She drops to sit on the warm sand next to him, facing him rather than the water, and his eyes follow her cautiously. Gnawing at the inside of her cheek, she tries to figure out where to start, and settles on, "I felt guilty. I still do, because I made a huge decision when I mated you, a decision you should have had more say in, and a decision that doesn't just affect the two of us." She sighs, picking nervously at the edge of her summer dress. "I wouldn't blame you if you're angry at me for it, even if it's just on your soulmate's behalf. Telling Kylo was hard enough, but now we'll have to tell your soulmate, too."

An odd strangled noise comes from him. "You told Kylo? How?"

Rey winces. "Email. It was terrible to do it that way, but I didn't have his number and I needed him to know. I'm worried I might never hear from him again, and _yes,_ that's upsetting and awful, but I made my decision."

"There's something I should tell you," Ben blurts. "Maybe I should have—"

She quiets him with a raised hand. "Please, let me go first. I'm sorry, but I have so much I need to say and there's a lot you deserve to hear."

Ben hesitates, but gestures for her to continue. She turns, staring out at the water before she goes on. It's a little easier, saying what she needs to say while facing away from him. At least she thinks it will be.

"My parents weren't soulmates," she begins. "I don't want to get too far into it right now, but for as long as I've known you, I've been terrified to get too close because of them. Because of how things went for them." Shakily, she admits, "As far as I know, they were in love. They were having me. And then one day he checked his results and he picked his soulmate—someone he'd never even met. He picked his soulmate over my birth mother, and over me. Long story short, she died, he's living happily ever after."

It takes her a moment to say the next part, but Ben waits patiently. "And I guess I was afraid, because you're being given a similar choice. _Me,_ a person you have no guarantee you'll live happily ever after with, or your soulmate, a person you know with absolute certainty will make an excellent match." She stops and takes in a long breath. "I guess I worried you wouldn't pick me."

His fingertips brush down her arm. "I'll always pick you," he murmurs.

Rey glances over, her mouth curving up on one side. "Yeah, I know. That's something I've realized. What happened with my parents was horrible, but we're not them. They made decisions we don't need to make. I can't believe I've studied this stuff for years, but it took meeting you to realize that we get to decide." She huffs, shaking her head, almost in disbelief. "Soulbond might be able to find my soulmate, but they don't decide who I love. They can't decide what or who makes me happy. They don't. I choose. I decide, and I have."

She meets his eyes, saying firmly, "I love you. I love you, and I'm always going to love you. I think that bite on your neck is the most honest I've ever been with myself, or with anyone."

Ben's gaze softens into something like awe. "So, you don't regret it?"

"No," she breathes. "No, no, I don't regret it at all. I could never regret that. The only thing I regret is being too afraid to do it sooner, and—"

When the thought crosses her mind, she stops mid-sentence. Ben tilts his head. "And?"

"And I regret not letting you bite me back." She swallows. "Would you?"

He asks with a disbelieving whisper, "Do you want me to?"

"Please."

Ben works his mouth, his eyes flicking down to her neck. He nods. "If you're sure. During your next heat?"

"No. No, right now. Please?"

The look Ben gives her makes her think he's holding himself back from asking if she's sure. It's a reasonable question—she knows what she's asking for. It's a life-time commitment, much more permanent than any other way they could bond themselves to each other. Completing a mating bond links them on a basic biological level in a way that's never successfully been undone.

"Ben, please," she whispers. She clutches the compass hanging at her chest. "You said I was your home, but you're mine, too. I won't change my mind. I've been looking for home my whole life, and trust me, you're it." Her bottom lip trembles. "I need you to. I can't wait another three months."

He lets out a shuddering breath, and straightens his legs in front of him, nodding. "Of course. Come here." He takes her hand, helps pull her into his lap, and for a minute, she only straddles his thighs while they stare at each other. Her hands rest on his chest, fingers splaying out across him.

Ben almost seems to crumple forward. He wraps around her tightly, hooking his chin over her shoulder, and holds her in a bone-crushing hug. The dress she's wearing leaves her shoulders mostly bare, so she can feel the dampness of his tears as he keeps her pressed to him. They stay like that for so long, just holding each other and listening to the waves crash, and every bit of it becomes a moment she wouldn't trade for anything. His hands grip her back, spanning so much of her, and Rey relaxes in his arms as his scent turns from something sad and anxious to thoroughly relieved.

He sighs again and breaks the quiet peace between them. "I have one condition, though."

Rey sits back to look at him. "What? What do you mean you have a condition?"

"I'll bite you," he confirms, and when he says it, the corner of his mouth tilts up. "But you have to agree to something first."

She blinks, trying not to be a little annoyed. "Fine. What?"

His little half-grin widens. "You need to let me buy your textbooks in the future. No more thieving. I can't be a librarian and have my mate stealing from the library."

Briefly, she only stares at him, and then shakes her head as he starts laughing. His scent rises into what she can only define as pure joy. "Okay," she laughs. "Those terms seem fair."

The look he gives her turns a little serious. He readjusts his arms around her, pulling her closer, and whispers, "Okay."

Softly, she echoes, "Okay."

It's not exactly hesitant, but he leans in and moves slowly, starting by kissing at her jaw. His lips travel down the length of her throat, covering as much of her skin as he can manage, and it feels like hours have passed by the time he gets to her mating gland. Rey closes her eyes and brushes her fingers through his hair, pulling at it gently, just like he likes. He mouths at her neck, making shivers run over her skin and down her spine. Her nerves spike as he licks at her gland and nuzzles his face into it. His breath falls against her skin, and while she waits, her heart pounds and—

Rey's eyes fly open when it happens, when he sinks his teeth in and breaks skin.

She lets out some sort of noise, but she's so overwhelmed as the bond snaps into place, she's not sure whether it's a yelp or a moan.

Her world seems to shift.

Ben licks at the bite, soothing the broken flesh, and Rey hears herself whispering soft words, saying, "I never expected you. I never expected _this._ I thought you were just that asshole librarian who smelled too good, but now we're here, like this, at the _ocean,_ of all places."

He grins against her skin, and she gets comfortable, resting against him while he takes his time kissing her neck. After everything, all the hurt she's probably caused, all the back-and-forth, he deserves this precious time. So does she.

"How did you know?" she whispers. "How did you know it would all work out? You've been so open about how you feel, and so _sure_."

Ben shrugs and answers through a smile, "I told you I'd read the end of our book."

Rey laughs. "You're such a sap, you really—"

The words die in her throat.

She can hear the blood rushing through her head and around her body, and she can feel her heart pounding in her throat. For a long moment, she's not even sure why.

_You're very patient for a man who needs answers to things._

"Ben… what did you just say?"

_Maybe I've read the end of our book._

"I said, 'I told you I'd read—'"

Ben goes still against her. She both feels and hears his breathing stop as his mind catches up with his words. With a chilling level of calmness, Rey leans back in his arms and meets his eyes. She can only stare as, little by little, things Kylo told her start to click into place.

 _My parents aren't soulmates._ _They've also been (mostly) happily married for almost 30 years._

_Someday you might need to get used to being with someone who spent three hours reorganizing his spice drawer last week._

_I have one of those non-romantic soulmate pairs in my family. Siblings, my mother and uncle._

_Those can't be called books. I have the authority to say that._

_Coffee for me, but I'm difficult about it._

_I'm not going anywhere._

She stares blankly, mouth gaping at him. She closes it. Works her lips together. Blinks a few times. Starts to wonder if she's insane for reading into what are simply coincidences, or if she's a complete moron for not seeing it all much sooner. But then she looks into his eyes, and she _knows_.

Her eyes well with tears as it clicks. "Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ben."

She reaches up and cups his face in her hands, running her thumbs over the side of his face gently as she lets the truth wash over her in the most brilliant way. "You're him," she breathes. "You're _him_ , you're my soulmate, you—"

Oddly, it strikes her that he doesn't seem surprised. A moment later, something _else_ clicks.

_I told you it would be a happy coincidence!_

_You. You're my home._

_Make sure he tells you everything._

_So you don't think you could fall in love with your soulmate?_

_I told you our son got his soulmate results. I told you that—I even told you about her, don't you remember? Rey! That girl I met for lunch? Your future daughter-in-law?_

_Would have waited for you forever._

Briefly, she ponders whether screaming in frustration—or maybe rage—would be beneficial. Her brows furrow, and she makes firm eye contact with the collar of his t-shirt as she processes. She doesn't intend for her voice to sound so accusatory, and maybe even betrayed, but it does.

"You _knew._ Your family knows, too, don't they?"

He gives a hesitant nod. "I've known. They know, too, but I didn't tell them. My mother saw your necklace when you met her for lunch."

"How long?" she demands. "How long have you known?"

Ben's about to answer, but she silences him with a hand. "That letter you sent me, back in March. Early March, after my heat? You said you were writing because you'd had a revelation you were relieved by, but you couldn't tell me what?" Rey's gazes hardens, her jaw tensing. "That was about us, wasn't it?"

A look of regret flashes across his face. "Yes," he admits. "Things started to add up for me around then. I knew for sure when I saw this—" his fingers find the little compass at her chest, and his thumb circles the face of it, "I saw it when I found you in the laundry room, when I kissed you." His eyes flick to hers. There's a soft, supplicating expression he wears as he asks in a whisper, "Please don't be mad, Rey."

"Mad? _Mad?"_ she hisses. "You don't want me to be mad? Well," she lets out a sarcastic huff of laughter, "That's excellent, because I'm not mad at all. I'm fucking livid."

Her teeth clamp down on her lip as she tries to breathe. It's the only thing keeping her from screaming at him, which hasn't been crossed off her list of possible options. She pushes at his chest, snapping, "You've known for months, Ben! You've gotten _how many_ texts and letters where I've been quietly fucking tormented by how I feel about you and this whole situation, and you knew? How _dare_ you let me suffer like that, while you've known this whole time? That's _horrible."_

"I know," he says softly, and somehow, it's infuriating, stoking the fire in her chest, that he's not yelling back or trying to defend himself. He only holds her tighter while she pushes away. "I know."

"Months! How could you not tell me?"

Her cheeks feel damp as she squeezes her eyes closed, and she tightens her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. Ben tugs her closer, trying to soothe a hand down her back. He's trying to _comfort_ her.

"Fuck _off,"_ she snaps. "Ben, I'm serious, how could you let me think—"

"That you had the right to decide for yourself when you were ready to know?"

She glares daggers at him and sputters, "That wasn't what I was going to say. You—you're so fucking infuriating, and—"

"And patient, and considerate of your wishes?" he interjects.

Her voice cracks. "Stop finishing my sentences, you're _not_ good at it. God, you—you have _no_ idea—"

"How scared you were?" he asks softly. "Oh, I knew."

Ben cups her face in one hand. Her eyes widen, surprised he has the nerve to keep interrupting her when she's so angry.

"I read and reread every text, every letter. They made things clear, Rey. You were terrified of me as Ben and terrified of me as Kylo, so how would you have rather found out? Would it have been better to know when you were afraid, or is it better knowing now, now that you've left all that fear behind and made a decision you know, in your heart, is _your_ decision, and not one anyone else has pushed you toward?"

Rey blinks. For a moment, she just processes his words.

His thumb caresses over her cheek, and he looks at her like he knows, like he _knows_ , that under all the anger she's throwing in his face, there's something else.

And she realizes, then, that it's hard to be furious with someone while you're also feeling an overwhelming amount of relief and love. And it's hard to be mad at someone when they've spent months comforting you and patiently telling you they'll wait forever for you to be ready, and all they want is for you to be happy, and—

At that thought, the dam breaks.

Unshed tears pour down her cheeks as her face drops to his shoulder, and she sobs. Ben keeps holding her, letting her cry and break down as everything hits her all at once: the reality that _Ben,_ the man she loves, and _Kylo,_ the only person who's ever seemed to understand her, are one and the same. The reality that she hasn't broken any hearts, and she doesn't owe anyone a lifetime of apologies for mating their soulmate. The reality that she fell in love with her own soulmate, and that it happened slowly and all at once and so naturally that it was like one of those stories in a fairy tale she's never believed could be real.

She cries, and cries, and cries, into his shirt.

"I know, I know," he hushes, nuzzling at her forehead. "I know. And I don't know, maybe I _should_ have said this earlier—maybe things would have worked out—but I didn't, so I'll say it now." He takes in a breath and says some things she already knows, but still needs to hear. "In January, Soulbond assigned me the name Kylo Ren. I sent you that necklace. We're soulmates, and I've saved every one of your letters in a box on my dresser at home. I read them every night, especially the nights we didn't text. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I've been struggling with what to do since the day I saw you wearing that compass."

His mouth presses to her forehead, and she shudders again, lifting a hand to wipe at her face.

"I can't believe I didn't see it," she admits, her voice thin and strained. "I can't believe I didn't know. I'm just… I'm _so_ glad it's you." Tears start again, and she buries her face in his chest. Her words get muffled into his now-damp shirt. "I love you. I love you, I love you."

He rubs his hand down her back, pressing kisses into her hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you, and I didn't know if you'd be mad if I did. You said you weren't ready, and I kept telling myself you'd be furious if I told you."

Rey nods against him, not sure how to respond.

"I still wish I could have told you," he says softly. "But I was afraid, too, and I thought it would be selfish of me to tell you when you weren't ready."

It takes a little while, but her breathing goes back to normal as he holds her, cradling her while she adjusts to a new reality.

"It's you," she whispers, still having a hard time believing it. "Of course it's you."

Ben leans back to look at her, and cups her face. He wipes at her eyes. Her skin's probably gone blotchy from crying, and her eyes are still watery, but he looks at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's seen.

"Are you okay?"

"Overwhelmed."

"Good overwhelmed?"

"Yeah," she answers, but it comes out soft, a little like a whimper. "Relieved, too. I felt terrible for our soulmates. But I'm still angry with you. I know I said I wasn't ready to know, so maybe that's not logical, but I'm a _little_ angry. I might be for a while."

"That's okay," he whispers.

"I mean a _while,"_ she repeats, sniffling. A little smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she says it. "Probably long after we've gotten married and bought a house and gotten a cat or something."

It takes a moment, but his expression goes soft, and he gives her a ridiculous, adorable grin that she can't help but return.

"I think I can accept that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 


	13. Chapter 13

Luke has, thankfully, allowed the use of his office for her to pace around and panic in. It's a perfect spot for such activities—quiet, private, two minutes down the hall from where she's about to present, and it doesn't smell of pine trees, though that's faded now that she's been mated for so long; the scent of anyone other than Ben has dulled. There's a nice armchair to the side of Luke's desk that she's spent many an evening in while the two of them have discussed (and then torn apart, and reworked, and re-discussed) what she's about to present.

Presenting wasn't even required, what was she thinking signing up for this?

Rey groans, not playing with her hair as she normally would while this nervous. Her mate spent half an hour braiding it into a crown around her head just this morning, while she rested against him in their bed. She'd hate to mess it up. Not in a million years would she be able to fix it.

Since she might lose her mind if she rehearses the presentation again, Rey moves on to her next nervous habit. Texting Ben.

remind me why i agreed to present this?   
Maybe because they begged you to? Why do you think this lecture hall is full? It’s not the other graduate presenters, or everyone would have left now that we’re on break for lunch. More people have showed up.   
AHHHHH don’t SAY that!   
full? really? it was MAYBE half-full when they excused us!   
fuck it, i’m going for luke’s whiskey stash   
Sweetheart, calm down. Step away from the whiskey.   
distract me then, because i have 18 minutes to kill and i’m freaking out   
Okay, okay.   
Just think, in a week you’ll never have homework again.   
that reminds me of the finals i still need to help grade   
Okay, something else. I got your emails. The ones you forwarded?   
??   
From Travelocity? Was that your way of hinting you want to go on vacation now that you’re about to be done with grad school?   
Or am I just being involved in your anxious-vacation-planning habit now?   
You know we can go to these places, right?   
oh right. uhhh, i don't know, they're advertising these private beach houses that look great   
we're so busy though   
But if we had time, would you want to?

She's snapped out of the conversation when the office door opens.

It took her months of being mated to Ben before she dared to call Luke by his first name. He told her countless times, over many family dinners and office meetings, and then finally, when they were all in pajamas and opening gifts on Christmas morning, he refused to give her the present he'd brought for her until she used his first name.

So now, when he walks through the door, she gives him a nervous, "Hey, Luke."

"Hey, kid. I guess I was correct in assuming you didn't use our lunch break to get lunch." With a glance over at one of his cabinets, he hums. "Haven't broken into the whiskey. I'll take that as a good sign."

"Your nephew talked me out of it."

"Mm. Smart man." Luke pauses, and he does that grumbly frown thing he does whenever he's about to say something that makes him uncomfortable. He walks past her and takes a seat behind his mahogany desk, sighing as he rests back in his chair. "You know… I've advised a lot of students."

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. While she waits for him to continue, Rey sits across from him, trying to hide the way her fingers drum against the side of her thigh.

He tilts his head, scratching at his beard. "What was it, a year and a half ago? You sat in that chair and told me you thought soulmates were nonsense?" He huffs, his smile curling into more of a smirk. "And now here you are, and this presentation is just a little step on your way to something bigger." Pale blue eyes flash up to hers. "I was just out saying hi to Ben. He said you accepted their offer yesterday?"

It's still hard to believe. Sending in her paper, data included, was a long-shot, but after Ben, Rose, _and_ Hux all spent one of their weekly dinners convincing her it was worth trying, she'd put her materials together and sent it to a contact Leia suggested at SoulBond. Their reply included a request for her resume.

"Yeah," she says, shrugging with disbelief. "You know, I would have bet I'd get some sort of boilerplate response, like _thanks but the way we do things is how we've always done them,_ but it wasn't that at all."

Luke shakes his head, smiling warmly. "And they want you to help change the process? I saw Mon Mothma—she's sitting by me."

"She's been great," Rey nods. "And I wouldn't say they're changing the process, exactly. It's not a revolutionary change, but they've already got a test group. Fifty soulmate pairs who haven't gotten their results yet have signed up to participate. It's just in this region for now, but if it works out, I think Ben and I might end up traveling to the different SoulBond centers to help them put this into motion."

It's impossible to say any of it while keeping the massive grin off her face.

"You know how bad I am at saying this," he finally tells her. "But I'm proud of you. As your professor, your advisor, future-uncle-in-law… I'm proud of you. You took something you didn't understand and something you feared and you did _this,_ and I'm so glad I got to be here to see it. A lot of people are going to benefit from this."

"Thanks, Luke. I hope you're right," she says softly. She crosses her arms over her chest, unsure of what to say, and admits with a grimace, "But I wish I wasn't so nervous."

He snorts, and stands, walking back around his desk. "Can't blame you there. Try not to be, though. This was optional, the department's already reviewed your paper. You'd already know it if you weren't going to be graduating next week."

"I know, I know."

Rey stands, too, and lets Luke give her a hug. "Use my office," he instructs kindly, on his way back out. He checks his watch. "You've got nine minutes. _Relax."_

"Will do," she lies through a smile.

She goes back to pacing the second his door closed. Her hands are so shaky, she wonders if Ben accidentally made espresso this morning rather than coffee. She still hasn't figured out the coffeemaker—she stopped bothering almost a year ago—so it's very possible the thing makes espresso.

At the thought of Ben, she mutters a swear and takes her phone out, realizing she forgot to reply to him.

  
Would you want to go there?   
Rey?   
Everything okay?   
Still nervous?   
**Today** 12:52 PM   
yes, sorry, i was talking to luke. of course i'd want to go

Before she can type out another text, there's a knock at the door, and then it opens. Ben pokes his head in, and _god_ is he a sight for sore eyes. He's in one of his usual stark white button-ups, but this time he's added a charcoal tie, and his wavy hair is neatly styled.

The first thing she does when he kisses her is mess his hair up. She runs her hands through it, smiling against his mouth when he groans—either at the kiss or at the realization that she's messed up his hair. It's a little game she plays, seeing how much she can get away with. Messed up hair, an askew tie, a button undone, a bit of red lipstick left behind. Ben never seems to mind. If his scent's any indication, he loves the little territorial marks she leaves behind.

He presses his forehead to hers, grinning. "How's it going in here? You seem a little tense."

"Mm, a little," she confirms with a breathy laugh.

Ben's hand slides to the back of her neck, and his thumb traces circles around the mating mark that's been healed for nearly a year. She almost sinks into the floor with relief. Her eyes flutter closed as she sighs, and Ben takes the opportunity to kiss her again. This time it's not a _hello_ kiss. It's open-mouthed and slow, while he holds her neck.

This is maybe her favorite thing about him. Not the kissing, though that's very close to the top of the list, but the way he knows her. The way he knows that when she comes home and doesn't rush to him, she's had a shit day and she's lost in her thoughts, and the icy wall around her will melt the second he makes her favorite peppermint tea. The way he knows she vents about him putting the sugary cereals up high, but secretly loves the little smirk he gives her when he has to get them down. The way he knows the only way she'll stop using a three-in-one shower product is if he gets in the shower with her and washes her hair himself.

The way he knows that the best way to make her relax is by kissing her like this—the way he'll be kissing her the rest of their lives—because it reminds her that whatever she's nervous about pales in the face of a lifetime with her soulmate.

When he pulls away, leaving her with one more soft kiss at the corner of her mouth, his eyes are warm and filled with joy. "Anything else I can do to help?"

She closes her eyes, relaxing in his arms, and murmurs, "It's okay. I'm in my happy place."

"Oh?"

"Mm. We're on a beach in Brazil, maybe drinking pina coladas. You're shirtless, I'm done presenting, it's all good. Life is amazing."

Ben laughs, nudging his nose into the top of her head. "It's like you can see the future."

"Don't get snarky with me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he mumbles into her hair.

She rolls her eyes at him, but doesn't hesitate to kiss him again.

* * *

Ben does yet another double take as he re-enters the auditorium filled with students, professors, other university staffers, and—amazingly—representatives from the press, other universities, and, maybe most importantly, SoulBond. Of course, SoulBond has already seen what's about to be presented, but since they now legally own the data and intensely outlined plans Rey's worked on, they're here to oversee things.

He nods to one of the people they've sent, Mon Mothma, an old family friend of his mother's, and walks over to take the seat between her and his uncle Luke. His parents are in the row behind them, beaming, just the way they always do when Rey's around. At this point, the seats are filled and the back of the room is packed with people who showed up to watch what may very well be history about to unfold.

Maybe that's an exaggeration, but his chest is full with the pride he feels for Rey and whatever minimal role he may have played in helping inspire this.

Next to him, Mon Mothma tilts her head. "How's she doing?"

Ben glances over, trying not to bounce his knee. He's convinced she'll do well, but he's panicking all the same. "She's okay. Nervous," he admits. There's no point in lying to another Alpha, not when she can tell how anxious he is on his mate's behalf. "I think she wishes she'd gone first and gotten it over with this morning, rather than being saved for last. She's okay, though. I think it helps that the presentation isn't data-heavy—the University has already been given all the data she sent your office, so her presentation is lighter on that. For this, they wanted something more…" he hesitates, trying to think of the word, "Relatable? Marketable? Once they knew what sort of crowd it might attract, they told her they wanted to see something the audience wouldn't need a degree to understand."

"Your friends are trying to get your attention," Luke interrupts quietly, elbowing him and nodding toward the side aisle where people have started standing against the wall. "I didn't know they were coming, we could have saved them seats."

When he looks over, Rose is grinning widely, her hair pulled back in braided style he's tempted to ask for instructions on, for the next time Rey asks him to do her hair. Hux is standing behind her, waving. Ben waves back, about to stand and walk over to say hello and thank them for taking the afternoon off to see this, but then the chattering buzz in the room quiets. Rose's attention snaps to the front of the room, as does Ben's.

She's there, at the podium.

There's never a moment when he doesn't think she's gorgeous, but today is really the first time he's seen her in any sort of business wear. She's in dark gray trousers, sharply creased, and a tucked-in crisp fitted white button-up and heels his mother gifted her. The braid he did this morning wraps around her head, with little wisps of hair falling around her face. For a brief moment, Ben pictures her with thick black-rimmed glasses and starts wondering if he's discovered a new kink.

Then her gaze meets his, and her mouth tilts into that smile that's reserved for him, and something flutters in his stomach as he thinks of the ring waiting in his jacket pocket. He grins, giving her a single encouraging nod. He's convinced it's impossible to be prouder of anyone than he is of her, even though he knows he'll be even more proud when she's finished presenting. His chest is going to burst with it.

Rey clears her throat, tapping gently at the mic, and any remaining whispers in the room die down. She hesitates and gives the crowd a tight smile.

"Hi everyone," she greets. There's a little shakiness to her voice. "If you've been here all day, thanks for sticking around to hear about what I've been working on, and if you've just arrived… well, thanks for coming. My name's Rey. I've spent my time here studying soulmates. I'm about to graduate with a Master's Degree, and today, I'm here to tell you what I've been working on."

He watches her bite at her lips, her eyes scanning over an intimidating crowd. She glances down at the note cards in her hands, staring at them—the note cards she's painstakingly written and rewritten and studied and rehearsed with.

And then she does something that doesn't surprise him anywhere near as much as it should.

With a slow-growing smile, she rips them in half.

* * *

It's the oddest thing, to be hit with an intense moment of clarity when everyone's waiting for you to say something. But she's always been careful, always done what's easy and guaranteed not to result in something surprising. She's always been scared. And right now, standing in front of an audience that's waiting on her to present what may very well end up being her life's work, Rey is overwhelmed with an intense feeling that can only be summarized by a single action.

Ripping up those note cards—those damn note cards she's spent months obsessing over—must be the biggest relief she's felt since that day on the beach, when she sat in Ben's lap and cried as the puzzle pieces of her life finally came together.

Her eyes flick up to the crowd. She takes the mic with her, leaving the podium.

"Soulmates," she starts, already entirely off-book. "The whole concept is a lot, right?" She faces the crowd and asks, "Can you do me a favor? Raise your hand if you were or are nervous or scared to meet your soulmate. And please, be honest. Nobody's judging anyone in here."

Predictably, almost every single hand raises. She's convinced those who didn't raise their hand are lying to themselves, but doesn't say it.

Rey nods. "Why don't I tell you how I felt? _Nervous_ doesn't begin to describe it." Her gaze cuts to Ben, and the corner of her mouth tilts up. "This wasn't my plan for today, but I'm going to be very honest with all of you," she says slowly. "If any of you had asked me a year or so ago, I would have told you I had no intention of meeting my soulmate."

There's a swell of surprise and murmuring from the group. "I know, I know, that sounds unbelievable to many of you, but it's true, and the thing is, it _shouldn't_ be unbelievable. According to a blind poll we sent out to over a thousand young adults—specifically, we sent this to young adults who had not yet received their SoulBond results—a whole sixty-two percent admitted to not feeling ready to meet their soulmate."

She pauses. "Think about that. Sixty-two percent of young adults polled. And yet most of these people will be receiving their results within the next year."

She starts walking back and forth across the little stage that's set up, and continues, "I've got to tell you, after hearing that, I felt better about my reaction. I'd always thought I was crazy. I'd been convinced I was a square peg and the entire world was a round hole, but that's not true. The truth is that many of us are afraid. Many of us are nervous. Many of us feel that we don't have a choice in any of this."

Rey turns to the group that's listening intently, and tilts her head. "What I'm not going to do today is tell you that the system is broken. It's not. I can say that, based on my own personal experience, the existing system works. But that doesn't mean it can't be improved to account for that sixty-two percent."

With another smile directed at her mate, she speaks softly into the mic, "There something that's lacking—lacking from all the discussions we have about soulmates, and lacking from those emails we all eventually receive. There's a vital thing we tend to forget.

"This is a choice," she says simply. "It is. It's a choice. Perhaps things were different in the past, but in the world we live in today, it's a _choice._ Almost a year ago, I decided what direction I wanted to go in for this presentation, and it's wholly inspired by my own personal experience." She scans the crowd again, biting at the inside of her mouth, before she says, "Today, I'm suggesting that, if given the chance, soulmates will gravitate to each other whether they possess the knowledge that they are soulmates.

"Let me put that differently," she says, as soft murmurs start going through the audience. "When two soulmates—ones who are not aware of their soulmate status—are put in a room of, say, thirty or forty strangers, they are likely to find each other, whether or not they realize why they feel drawn together."

Rey pauses, giving the room time to react. It's gone utterly silent.

Whether that's a good sign, she's not sure, but she continues anyway. "The thing is, with the current system, most soulmates will never have the opportunity to meet before receiving their results, so this phenomenon is incredibly rare. But we've all heard about it, haven't we? We've all seen the space operas that dominate the box office—the ones where enemies are inexplicably drawn together across a massive galaxy, only to realize it's because they're soulmates. We've all heard the stories of a friend of a friend of a friend who happened to fall in love and then discovered, with relief, that their lover was actually their soulmate."

She stops then, the corner of her mouth curling up, and gives the audience a little half-shrug. "It happened to me."

Ben's expression softens, and from the front row, he mouths _I love you._

Her grin widens. "Anyway." Rey clears her throat and takes a few steps to the podium. "If we take a step back and look at the big picture, we see that a lot of us are feeling negatively about receiving soulmate results. We're nervous, and scared. Then once we receive results, studies show that plenty of people who have married their soulmate—the exact number is on the slides we'll see in a bit—aren't sure whether they had a true choice, or whether they simply accepted their results. Overall, we're nervous, we're scared, and we feel like we don't have a choice. Yet, most people are physically drawn to their soulmates whether they realize it or not."

She glances sideways at the screen projecting the name of the presentation she's about to dive into.

"I believe I've got a solution. It's a simple one, too. Working in step with SoulBond, I'm helping launch a new optional part of the soulmate process that will bring groups of unpaired soulmates together for social events to give people a chance to gravitate toward their soulmate more naturally. We believe this will allow people who may have felt those negative feelings—the nervousness, the fear, the lack of control—to fall in love in their own time, in a way that removes the pressure and encourages the growth of organic, honest feelings. This is what I'm presenting to you today."

Her hand presses to her chest, over the little circle of metal and glass hanging from her neck.

"A year ago, I was given the chance to fall in love on my own schedule, in my own time. I was given the chance to gravitate toward my soulmate on my own, and I was given the gift of making my own decision, regardless of my results. That's a gift I hope to give to others."

She swallows and meets Ben's eyes. He's staring at her like _she_ is what he's always been looking for. Like he's been lost his whole life, and she is his North Star.

With watering eyes, she glances up at the screen to her side and tries to keep her voice steady.

"This is Project Compass."

* * *

Later that afternoon, Ben holds the apartment door open while everyone piles into their mess of a— well, it isn't really home anymore. There's a pang of sadness in his chest when he glances in as Rose walks past him with a small stack of pizza boxes. Most of their furniture is gone, and most of their things have been packed up into boxes.

"I'm so sorry you guys," Rey mutters for the billionth time. "I think we packed the silverware already. We should have gone to your place."

Rose waves her off. "Who needs silverware to eat pizza? We aren't all Ben."

"I don't use silverware." He frowns at her. "I don't even eat pizza."

His mate snorts. "Uh, huh. Is that why, whenever I eat pizza, my leftovers magically disappear?" She glances over at him, teasing, "You know, it's okay to admit you like something unhealthy. I caught you eating Lucky Charms, I don't see why you insist on pretending you don't like the occasional overload of sugar or carbs."

Predictably, Rose grins at her. "Have I mentioned lately that you're one of my favorite people for giving him so much shit?"

Ben sighs as his two favorite women fist-bump.

When Hux shuffles in, Ben closes the door behind the four of them. It's just a small celebration dinner (and minor packing-party) tonight, since his family's insisting on having something bigger once he and Rey finish moving.

"Aw, Finn texted, his vacation request got approved, so he and Poe should be able to visit in August," Rey announces, looking at her phone. She looks to Rose. "Do you think you guys could come visit around then, too? I know Naboo isn't too far to drive, but you could come for a long weekend or something, stay with us, maybe? Even the whole week, if you can get the time off. We're looking for a place with an extra bedroom or two, so we should have space for guests."

"That'd be great," Rose nods, opening up one of the pizza boxes she's perched on a packed box of kitchen items. "Yeah, it's a shame we didn't get to see them more before they moved."

Rey shrugs. "They wanted to be closer to Poe's parents. Plus, the houses in Yavin are way cheaper. The place they got is _cute._ We haven't gotten a chance to visit yet, but they've sent a ton of pictures, so—"

She's interrupted mid-sentence by a yelp, and all their gazes cut to the source of the noise.

Hux stands in the hallway, having come back from the bathroom, wide-eyed as a little black cat digs its claws into his shoulder. He winces, his nose crinkling as he reaches to try to remove Ren, which won't go well.

With a laugh, Ben grabs the fluffball, pulling it from his friend. "He must like you. You're the only guest he ever bothers."

Dryly, Hux replies, "I'm _so_ honored." He rubs at his shoulder, glaring at the purring cat in Ben's arms. "That thing is a monster."

Ben snorts, looking down at the little cat that purrs whenever he's held. "Yeah, definitely a monster. _Truly_ terrible. All eight pounds of him." He smiles at the little ball of fluff, and talks to Ren in a soft voice, "Did you hear that? Uncle Armie's scared of you. I'm so proud, little guy. What a good little cat."

"You know, it's a shame Rey hasn't managed to make you less of a dick."

At that, his traitor of a mate laughs, _hard,_ and says, "Believe me, "I've tried."

Hux purses his mouth in a faux show of concern. "I'm sorry to say it, Rey, but you may need to try harder."

"Hey," Ben mutters, "if I'm a dick, then you're a—"

Rose groans. "Okay, you're both assholes, no need to argue about it. Now would you all shut up and eat some pizza before it gets cold?"

She is perhaps the only Alpha he'll take such orders from. He hesitates, but nods when she starts glaring. He puts the cat down and walks into the kitchen to wash his hands and grab some extra paper towels. When he goes back into their sparsely furnished living room, he grabs a slice of the veggie-topped pizza and starts dabbing grease off it as he goes to stand near Rey, who's watching with clear amusement written all over her face.

"So you're really headed out tonight?" Rose asks. "I still can't believe it." Her eyes shoot to his. "You've got to tell me how good it felt, giving Snoke notice."

At that, he laughs. "I thought he was going to scream. He started going on and on about the legacy I'd have if I stayed." Ben rolls his eyes. "You should have heard him when I told him _why_ I was leaving."

"I'm sure we can all guess Snoke's reaction to hearing Rey's the breadwinner of your relationship," Rose mutters. "Still, must have been great to give notice."

Ben nods and tilts his head down to where she's sitting on a box. "Are you going to be okay, sticking around, working for him?"

It's slow, but she glances over at her mate and smiles. "I interviewed for a new job, actually. Coruscant Public Library is hiring a new head archivist. They offered it to me. I'm giving notice at the end of the week."

His mouth falls open. It's clear that this isn't news to Hux, but Rey puts her slice of pizza down on a paper plate, wipes her hands, and wraps the woman in a hug. "Rose! Oh my god, that's amazing! Coruscant? That's like… well, not quite midway, but I could meet you for lunch once in a while if you want."

Rose smiles, hugging Rey. "I'd _love_ that."

The two of them have grown close in the past year. He'd never realized Rey and Rose were very social, but the two have frequent "girl's nights", during which he's left to socialize with Hux, which isn't anywhere near as annoying as he pretends it is. Rose likes to tease him (often) about having the world's most dramatic soulmate reveal, but it's no secret that she adores Rey, even if she _does_ side-eye the textbook on their bookshelf—the stolen textbook about soulmates, with a blue sticker on the spine.

In his soulmate's arms, Rose sniffs and says, "I just can't believe this is the last time we're having dinner here together. I'm going to miss you guys." Her arm tightens around Rey's shoulders. "And I'm so proud of you. You have no idea. You're going to help so many people fall in love and it's the sweetest thing ever."

"You're going to make me cry," Rey complains, burying her face in the woman's shoulder. "And we're only moving to Naboo. It's not that far. We're going to see each other all the time."

"We better."

"We _will."_

Ben looks over to Hux, whose expression softens as he watches the two women. He clears his throat, meeting Ben's eyes with a tight smile. "Have you two found a place, then?"

"Not yet," Rey answers for him, wiping at her eyes as she leans out of the hug. "We're checking listings, but since the semester is over, we wanted to end the lease here before we owe them for another month. I'm coming back next week for graduation. For now, our stuff's going into temporary storage, and we're going to stay at Ben's parent's place."

He hesitates. He was planning to wait for this news until it was just him and Rey, but…

"Actually, I think I found a place. If you want it."

Rey's eyes widen as she looks up at him. "Really? Which one? I checked the new listings in the car—is it the new one that went up this morning? The one on Birchwood? The location isn't the best, but the price looked okay."

"Mm, no, not that one. The one I'm thinking of isn't listed yet." He bites at the inside of his mouth as she frowns, waiting for an answer. "The uh… the owners are offering to us at a rather low price, as a combination graduation-slash-early wedding present."

He can see the moment Rey connects the dots.

"You're _kidding."_

"I'm not."

Rey just stares. "There's no way we can afford it."

"It's coming heavily discounted, assuming we want it."

She lets out a breath as Hux and Rose glance between the two of them. Ben gives her a little smile. "They've only stayed in it for a couple of weeks a year for the past five or six years, and my mother says she's sick of seeing it go mostly unlived-in. If you'd rather have a smaller place, or even just a _different_ place, that's fine. I mean, it would take us forever to furnish it, and cleaning it will be a nightmare, but—"

"Of _course_ I want to live there," she interrupts. "You're sure it's okay? You don't mind? Your parents don't mind?"

"It's ours if we want it."

"Um, can one of you fill us in?" Rose asks.

Next to her, Rey laughs. "Let's just say, if you ever want to visit, we'll have the space."

* * *

It's hours later when he finds her standing in their now-empty living room. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she stares at the room. Her scent is a little sad, so Ben walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kisses the side of her head.

"The car's packed," he says softly. "Ren's in there, too. We just need to drop our keys off." When she doesn't reply, he adds, "I'll miss it, too."

"This was our first place together," she whispers.

"Yeah, I know." He kisses her temple again. "But you know, we're moving to the place where we mated each other."

"Hm. That's a good point."

"I thought so."

"I still can't believe we're actually moving there," she sighs. "I mean, I was looking forward to staying there while we looked for a place of our own, but I don't think it's sunk in yet that we're actually going to live there." She leans back against him, tilting her head back to look at him. "That was a hell of a surprise, you know."

A grin plays at the corner of his mouth. "I might have another surprise."

"I hope it isn't another house, because, despite what your family may think, we really only need one."

He laughs, shaking his head. "No, it's not another house. It's in my jacket pocket."

Rey hums, reaching back to pat at his pocket, and for a moment, he panics, realizing he didn't specify _which_ pocket. Depending on which she picks, this could end up being a slightly-earlier-than-planned proposal.

To his relief, she goes for his left pocket, and pulls out a thin envelope. "Hmm. What did you do?" She turns, narrowing her eyes at him as she opens it up and takes out the tickets.

The curious, amused expression on her face melts as she stares at the paper in her hands. Her eyes, wide and now damp, flick to his. "Ben, you didn't. I can't believe… You know you didn't have to, right?"

He only cups her face, wipes her tears, and says, "I told you I'd bring you anywhere."

* * *

It's two weeks later when Rey's sitting on a fluffy white towel taken from their private beach house. Breathlessly, she stares out at an endless ocean, much like the one that's now part of her backyard at home.

There's so much she could be stressed about, so many things that will happen the moment they get home. Her new job kicks off two days after their flight gets in, and not long after that, Rose, Hux, Finn, and Poe will all be visiting for a week, and she's sure she'll be wedding planning not long after. Her mate has approximately two more days to ask before she does it herself, but she's got a sneaking suspicion he's planning something and she doesn't want to step on his toes.

It's a lot, but as she sits on Ipanema beach and gets an eyeful of sparkling blue waters, it's impossible to be worried or stressed about any of it.

Next to her, Ben nudges his shoulder against hers.

He is blessedly shirtless. She huffs a laugh, and mutters, "Maybe I _can_ see the future."

"I can get a couple of pina coladas if you want to be sure," he winks.

She considers it, but shakes her head. "Nah. Stay here, with me."

"Always."

Ben scoots closer, sliding his arm around her bare waist, and kisses her shoulder. It's slow, but his mouth moves along her skin, working slowly to the spot on her neck. He kisses her mating gland, asking in a murmur, "So? Is it everything you thought it'd be?"

Her hand grips at his as she stares at the spot where the startlingly blue sky kisses the water. They both know what she means when she says, "No, it's not." With watering eyes, she leans into him and whispers, "It's better."

Rey can feel his smile form against her skin as he asks, "Why does it feel like we're not talking about the ocean?"

She caresses the back of his hand with her thumb, sucking in a breath at the overwhelming swell of love she never knew she could feel.

"We were never talking about the ocean, Ben."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)   
> 

**Author's Note:**

> [ Attack's Twitter](https://twitter.com/AttackotDC)


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